I Dream of Us
by Fire The Canon
Summary: When a child gets caught in the crossfire of a battle between Aurors and Death Eaters, there will be hell to pay. When an investigation is conducted and it finds that the spell that killed the child was off Ron's wand, he must not only deal with the guilt of what has happened, but also the revenge the child's mother seeks. [PREQUEL to In This Together.]
1. September 9, 2020

**September 9, 2020**

"Do you really have to leave again?" Hermione asked, feeling rather annoyed that Ron was once again going away on another mission. He'd been going on them a lot lately, which, she knew wasn't his fault, but it was still frustrating. She wanted to spend time with her husband; she didn't want to stay in _their_ house by herself.

Ron looked at her, smiling slightly. "I know," he said. "I can't help it, though. There's been a lot of activity around lately. A lot of raids, and a lot of deaths." He noticed Hermione's expression. "I'm sorry!"

Hermione shook her head. "Don't be," she said, approaching him by the fireplace, where he'd leave from. "I'm just going to miss you, that's all. I know it's your job… it's just… annoying, that's all. This house gets rather lonely when you go away, and the kids are at Hogwarts…."

Ron raised an eyebrow, setting the small suitcase on the ground so he could pull her towards him. "I thought you'd love the peace and quiet," he teased. "You can do whatever you like, when you like… I thought it'd be a dream come true."

"For one or two days, maybe, but not… how long?"

"Should only be a few days this time," Ron assured her, placing a kiss to the top of her head. "I'll be back before you know it. And then I promise I'll be here for at least a month." This time he kissed her lips.

"Where're you going anyway?" Hermione then asked, looking up at him with curious eyes. Ron had stopped telling Hermione where he was going years ago, and she had stopped asking. They'd come to a mutual understanding that he had his job, and she had hers.

"Wales this time," he told her. "Some tiny village, predominantly magical. There's apparently been a little bit of strange activity there as of late, so we're just going to check it out."

Hermione nodded. "Fine, well, you better go, then, or you'll be late." She stretched to kiss him. "Just be careful, okay? I'd like you home in one piece."

Ron smirked, moving towards the fireplace with his suitcase in his hand again. "I always am," he said. "Have a little faith, Hermione."

"I do!"

"Then stop telling me to be careful every time I go. I haven't gotten anything more than a Stunning jinx thrown at me in twenty years or so. I'm rather capable of looking after myself."

Hermione shook her head, rolling her eyes. "I know that, Ron, it's just… something feels different this time."

Ron frowned. "Like what?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know, it just does. Just… be careful, okay. That's all I ask."

Ron leaned forward to kiss her one more time before stepping into the fireplace. He nodded. "I promise – as usual – that I'll be careful," he promised her. "I love you."

She smiled at him. "Love you too," she said. "And don't forget to write to tell me you've arrived safely."

"Yes, Mum."

"Ron! I'm serious. You never do, and I have to hear from Ginny – who hears from Harry that you're alive and well. Just write for once, will you?"

"I write to the kids."

Hermione gave him a pointed look.

"Okay, okay, I'll write, I promise. I've got to go now, okay? I'll see you in a few days." And without another word, Ron had vanished in the fireplace, leaving Hermione standing by herself in the living room.

When he was gone and the dust had settled, she sighed. As much as she loved Ron, sometimes she hated that he was an Auror. He never seemed to take the danger his job brought seriously. Yes, he had been one for twenty years or so and come out unscathed, but it didn't mean that would be the case every time.

He'd hardly talk about what he experienced when on missions, but she heard the rumours around the Ministry, and it frightened her. She didn't want anything to happen to him.

She just wished he'd take it more seriously. That was all she asked.

Sighing again, she made her way to the stairs. Now it was her turn to get ready for work, which she didn't mind. Work distracted her from Ron's work, and it was days like this where she needed it. She'd no doubt hear that the mission was a success later that evening, but until then, she hated it.

OOO

The room Ron was staying in was by far the worst place he had ever laid eyes on. It was situated above an old, creepy-looking pub in the village he'd been sent to. It was swarming with rats and other creatures he didn't even want to name; the bed was small and old, and rather uncomfortable, and he had nowhere to move.

It was times like these where he wished he really didn't have to leave home. As much as he loved his job, it would have been much simpler to do day trips – Apparate or Floo to wherever it was he needed to go, and then come home the same day that evening. But they needed to stay a few days afterwards just in case.

There had been more than one occasion where they had thought things were fine and then something else would happen. Their job was to catch any Dark wizards, and also protect the innocent. They couldn't afford for anyone to get hurt because they were too lazy to monitory the settlement afterwards.

"Hey!"

Harry appeared in the doorway, smiling slightly. "Nice place, right?"

"Define nice," Ron grumbled, chucking the suitcase onto the floor. "Can't even see out the bloody window!" He walked over to the tiny square in the wall. It was murky from years of being untouched. Bugs crawled around the outside, mould grew on the inside. He suspected that if he could see out of it, it'd give him a few of the main road, but he wasn't completely sure.

"Lucky it's only a few days this time," Harry said, inviting himself into Ron's room. "Have you checked out the bathroom yet?"

Bracing himself, Ron moved to another door inside the room. It was dark when he opened it, and upon trying to switch on the light, it didn't brighten.

" _Lumos_ ," he said, irritated. Using his wand light to navigate the tiny box of a bathroom, he swore twice more before closing the door again. "If worse comes to worse, I'll just Apparate home for twenty minutes for a quick shower," he said.

Harry smirked. "That sounds like a plan," he said. "I'm not showering in there."

"Kinglsey could have at least given us somewhere decent!"

Harry pointed out the window they couldn't even see from. "Have a look around; it's not like we were given much of a choice!"

Ron nodded, realising that was true. This village had a population of about five hundred. He supposed tourism wasn't all that high on their cards. "Alright, well, we better go. Find out what we're doing and all…."

Harry nodded. "This way," he said, pointing to the right of the door. "That's what I actually came to get you for. Kingsley wants us there in five minutes."

"To do what?"

"Work out a plan. There's lots of civilians here – Muggle and magical. We've got to be careful."

Ron frowned. "But…."

"Yeah, I know, we do it every time, but being a simple mission, Kingsley's brought some of the new trainees with him, so we've got to go over it with them first. You know what happened with the last lot and he didn't."

Last time Kingsley had assumed every person possessed common sense and not bothered with the procedure, two of the trainees had wound up in St. Mungo's – one was still there. Ron wasn't sure what went through people's minds, but he couldn't understand how one could think that as an Auror, they were invincible, and then go hell-for-leather into a Battle without a wand. They were lucky they weren't killed.

With a heavy sigh, Ron closed the door to his personal hell, and they made their way through the narrow hall, and down into the village square. There were two other Aurors waiting there already – one was Dean, the other Kingsley.

"Hey, Dean… Kingsley," Ron said. "How's things?"

Dean looked like death, but who could blame him? Dean had two children a bit younger than Rose and Hugo, but then his wife – a Muggle Ron couldn't remember the name of – had just had their third child two months ago. It didn't appear as if the new baby was much of a sleeper.

But, despite himself, Dean nodded. "I'm good, I'm good," he said. "Just exhausted."

"You don't say," Ron mumbled.

"How's little Maggie anyway?" Harry questioned.

Dean nodded again. "She's got a set of lungs on her, that's for sure," he told them. "Thank God the other two are at Hogwarts. Not sure how they would've coped with all her crying."

"Well, that's what babies do," Ron said. "Rosie was a screamer."

Harry snorted, but didn't say anything. Two other Aurors had now arrived, and Ron didn't recognise them. They must have been the trainees. They looked fresh out of Hogwarts.

"Now, all that's left is Hope."

"Hope?" Ron questioned.

"He'll be leading the mission," Harry explained.

"Bloke will get us all killed," Ron said. He looked at Kingsley questionably, but the Minister pointedly ignored him. Cygnus Hope was one of those idiots who lacked any common sense. He was more likely to Stun himself than any enemy on a mission, and Ron couldn't for the life of him work out why Kingsley had appointed him as the mission leader. He'd probably end up blowing up the village before they could capture anyone.

"Hope has been with us for twenty-five years," Kingsley then explained. "It's his first mission as the Head Auror, so try not to intimidate him too much." At those words, he looked to Ron.

"Well, that's all and good," Dean interrupted, "But… he's got to be here to lead, doesn't he?"

Even as Dean said the words, a _pop_ from Ron's right caused him to jump. He scowled as Hope brushed himself down and joined them a moment later, acting as if nothing was amiss.

The instructions had specifically said to arrive via the Floo Network in that run-down pub they were staying at. The owner was a Squib and wouldn't be deterred by someone walking out of a fireplace.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "Apparating in the middle of the place for everyone to see!"

"Weasley!" Kingsley's voice was deep, his expression a warning. Ron immediately silenced, but it didn't stop him from glaring at the man that was supposed to be leading this mission. Maybe Hermione was right; maybe he wasn't going to make it home this time.

Cygnus Hope simply looked at him, an expression of innocence on his face. "What have I missed?" he asked.

"Hope, these are your Aurors for today," Kingsley explained, waving a hand at everyone. "You know Potter, Weasley and Thomas of course, but here are Hickles and Swan. Two of our newest recruits."

Hope gave them each a curt nod, acting the superior to them both. Ron rolled his eyes.

"So, how this will work –"

"Minister, we know the rules," Hope interrupted. "We go in, we attack only when we have the enemy cornered. We know."

Kingsley's dark eyes narrowed at the interruption. "And?" he questioned.

Hope blinked. "Sorry?"

"What else?"

"No attacking when there are others around," Dean said, winking at both Harry and Ron.

Kingsley nodded. "We don't want any casualties."

Hope waved them off, turning to face the two trainees. "You got that, Hicks and Goose?"

The two trainee Aurors – a young woman of about twenty and a boy no older than nineteen – both nodded, looking perplexed by the situation. Ron wasn't at all convinced they knew what was going on, nor did Harry or Dean it seemed.

Kingsley, on the other hand, gave them a wide smile.

"Fantastic. Well, Hope, you know what to do from here, and I trust that you will take care of everyone."

Hope nodded fiercely, his chest swelling with so much pride that for a moment, Ron thought it was Percy in disguise. But then he remembered… Percy would never subject himself to something as outrageous as becoming an Auror. He much preferred to sit in an office all day and keep his hair tidy.

"Very well." Kingsley nodded. "I leave it to you. I am just a fireplace away if you need me."

This time all the Aurors nodded. _We_ will _need you_ , Ron thought, but he kept his opinion to himself. There was no point in offending Hope right now.

After the Minister was gone, the six of them remained in the village square. No one moved – Ron, Harry and Dean because they were going to let Hope have the complete say like he wanted and the two trainees because they had no idea what to do.

As expected, without the Minister there, the bloke looked lost. "So, er, we go in," he stated, trying to sound confident.

"And do what?" Dean questioned.

"Bring out the enemy."

They all nodded. The trainees made to go, and Hope followed them.

"If they come out here, we attack here. Is that understood?"

"And if there are innocent people around?" That was one of the trainees – the woman.

"They won't be that stupid. Not if they hear fighting going on."

Ron shared a look with Harry and Dean. They knew very well that if people heard a fight going on they would not stay in their houses and wait for it to be over. Someone needed to stay behind and make sure no one got caught in the crossfire (which was sure to come). It was standard procedure.

Harry was the one to speak up. "Er… Hope… shouldn't someone stay behind just to make sure there _is_ no one who decides they want to be involved?"

Hope didn't even stop. He continued to march through the silent square, in the direction of the house they knew the Death Eaters were hiding. "Why?" he questioned harshly.

"To make sure no one comes out," Ron stated. "I'll do it."

"That's not the order you were given, Weasley!" Hope snapped.

From beside Ron, Harry side. Why was the most experienced and sensible one here and Ron couldn't help but think Kingsley had made a terrible mistake by not putting him in charge. Hope had a reputation around the Ministry, and it wasn't a good one. Even Hermione – who had nothing to do with him – knew of him for the stupid decisions he made.

What in the name of Merlin had come across Kingsley to do this?

"Someone needs to stay back!" Harry argued, his voice remaining calm. Ron kept his own mouth shut. He didn't trust himself to not say what he was thinking.

"Look around you, Potter! There's no one here. Listen, this is a simple mission. We go in, we go out, we go home. It's as simple as that."

Ron shook his head, gripping his wand just that little bit tighter. If anything happened to anyone, he wouldn't hesitate to report him to the Ministry the first chance he had, and by the looks on Harry and Dean's faces, they were thinking the same thing.

"Well… it's here," Hope said. He made to open the door. "Swanson… you're with me. Hicklebury with Potter, and Thomas and Weasley, go round the other way."

"And do what?" Ron wanted to know. Of course, he knew what _he_ would do, but right now, he wasn't sure what Hope wanted.

Hope looked at him as if he were stupid. "And bloody draw them out, is what," he said. "Round back, Weasley!"

Shaking his head, Ron went off to the back of the old house, Dean following.

"He's treating it like we're breaking into Honeydukes," Dean accused. "This is bullshit. If we make it out of this alive, I'm going to tell Kingsley that if he sends Hope on a mission again, I won't be there."

Furious over what had happened, Ron blasted a back door of the house open. He cringed, immediately regretting it. If anyone was hiding in there, they'd know he was there now.

"Are you an idiot?" Dean questioned.

"No, just angry," Ron answered. He entered the dark room, lighting his wand in the process. Dean did the same, and together they began making their way through the house. It was dead quiet, the only sound was their heavy breathing and footsteps that creaked on the floorboards. _How did anyone even survive in this place?_ Ron found himself wondering. It was a dump.

They covered the whole ground floor of the house without coming across another living soul. Ron was about to call it himself, when a flash of light caught his attention from the kitchen they'd just left. He nudged Dean, pointing.

Dean nodded, and once again, the walked quietly back into the room. The light – a candle – flickered on the bench top alone.

Ron frowned. "Someone's here," he said, "but… how?"

Dean pointed to a dark spot to the side. "Through there," he said.

Before, neither of them had noticed it, but now as they looked closely, the saw that it was an archway leading into another room.

" _Arvada Ke –_ "

" _Stupefy!_ "

Ron moved to the side as the body of a cloaked figure fell at his feet. The dim light wasn't enough for him to see who it was, but they were out cold nonetheless.

It wasn't until he'd stepped into the room that Ron realised the call hadn't come from Dead, which he had originally thought. It was from someone else. "Who's there?" he called.

"Me!" The trainee Swan stepped out from the shadows, looking rather bewildered at the fact she had just Stunned a man.

"Thanks!" Ron said.

She shrugged. "No problem."

"Aren't you supposed to be with Hope, though?" Dean questioned.

Once again, Swan shrugged. " _Swanson_ is, but not me." She gave a wry smile, and Ron instantly liked her. "I lost him upon entering the house."

"Well… thank Merlin you did, or we'd both be dead," Dean said. "This way." They left the body lying where it was – they'd come back for it later, hopefully when the Death Eater woke and was groggy and confused. Now, they needed to find the others.

"Upstairs," Swan said.

Ron nodded. "We'll go." He had one foot on the first step when a blast came from somewhere outside. Without a second thought, all three of them bolted from the house, stepping carelessly over the Stunned body as they made their way back outside.

What had been a quiet place just moments ago had now erupted into shouts and screams from the residents of this small Welsh village. Spells flew from wands all around the place, and Ron couldn't even tell whose belonged to who.

"Bloody hell," Dean whispered as they watched the chaos unfold. "There's too many!"

Ron shook his head, confused. They'd been told it would only be a small mission with few Death Eaters. But what they saw before them were Death Eaters everywhere. The one in the house was just one of twenty.

They had no chance.

"If they don't kill Hope, I will!" Ron cried, running into the battle to try and assist as best as he could. If anyone else was leading that attack, they would have done their job properly and found this information out before going into the house. Now, thanks to his incompetence, they were battling at least twenty Death Eaters in the middle of a village where Muggles resided.

The residents had all come from their homes to watch the battle unfold, some with horrified expressions, others who were absolutely terrified. A few had drawn their own wands, obviously sensing the Death Eaters' large numbers, to help, but most stayed where they were.

Ron threw every spell that he knew at the Death Eaters, and while some fell, most blocked anything.

Swan, the trainee, went down very early on, but she was still alive, which caused Ron to believe she'd been hit by one of their own, thank goodness.

Twenty minutes into the battle, reinforcements arrived, Kingsley among them. Now the fight was even, and slowly but surely, the Death Eaters began to fall, their Stunned bodies falling on top of one another.

Ron watched as one Death Eater was hit by three Stunning Spells at once. They were knocked out cold, probably for a very long time.

"What the hell happened?" Kingsley demanded, his eyes furious. He looked at each and every one of the original six, waiting for an answer as some of the reinforcements magically bound the Death Eaters so they couldn't escape.

Puffing from exhaustion, no one answered straight away. Swan, rubbing her head, wandered over to them with a dazed expression. "More than we expected," she mumbled.

"More than you expected?" Kingsley repeated, his demeanour not wavering. "Four of you here were experienced Aurors, and you're telling me you were all caught off guard?"

They all nodded. If Ron had the energy, he would have jumped down Hope's throat, explaining to the Minister that he had left someone incapable in charge. But he didn't. That could be done later, when everything had settled down.

"So… they just came out unexpectedly did they?" Kingsley wanted to know.

"Well… yes," Hickles, the other trainee said. "It was very unexpected."

Hope, who hadn't said a word, was staring at his feet, hoping to go unseen. But, nothing escaped Kingsley, especially when something like this happened. "Auror Hope?"

The man with greying hair, and blue eyes looked ashamed. "Sorry, sir," he said. "I should have been more prepared."

"Yes, you should have," Kingsley said. "Just be thankful no one got killed. This could have been a lot worse."

Even as Kingsley spoke the words, a loud, piercing scream filled the square. Murmurs broke out amongst the civilians as everyone turned to where the sound was coming from. There, a woman was kneeling on the ground over something that looked sickeningly like a body.

Kingsley went over to the sobbing woman, and Ron and Harry followed. At the sight of what lay before him, Ron had to close his eyes. It wasn't just a body the woman lay over, but it was the body of a child. He looked no more than two-years-old.

Kingsley kneeled down so he was at the woman's level, but she ignored him. She continued to cry over the boy's body, heeding no one any attention.

"Do you know what happened?" Kingsley questioned gently after a while. "Did you see what happened?"

The woman looked at him, green eyes boring into the Minister. "Someone killed my boy!" she wailed. "He's dead! Someone killed him!"

Kingsley moved to comfort her, but she moved away.

"One of you killed him!" she accused.

Kingsley shook his head. "The Aurors don't use the Killing Curse," he explained. "It is illegal, but we will find who did this and they will be punished."

The woman didn't look at all convinced. "Send 'em to Azkaban, I tell you!"

Kingsley nodded. "Yes," he murmured. He got back to his feet, turning to Harry and Ron. "Inform the others that a life has been lost in this battle. We'll need to hold an investigation and find out whose wand it came from."

It was Harry who made to leave, but Kingsley held up a hand, stopping him. "Death Eaters and Aurors, Harry," he said.

Harry made to protest at such a preposterous idea that one of them could have killed the boy, but Kingsley shook his head. "A child this small, any spell could have killed him. Inform the Ministry of this," he said. "We'll have a lot to answer to."

Harry nodded and Disapparated from where he stood.

Ron felt sick just looking at the child. His mind couldn't help but think of Rose or Hugo lying there. Or James, or Albus, or Lily, or any other child he knew. He closed his eyes again.

"Weasley, move the body. We need to get it away from prying eyes." Kingsley's voice was gently, yet it still held authority. Ron nodded.

He bent down and scooped the lifeless child into his arms, his stomach churning with every step he took. He'd dealt with many bodies in his life as an Auror (and before) but never had it been someone that small. Just holding the child reminded him of Rose and Hugo when they were that age.

He couldn't even begin to imagine the pain that woman was feeling. If Rose or Hugo ever died… no, he couldn't think of that.

He took the child into a shop – a café – and laid him on the ground. He then Summoned a blanket and covered the body with it. It couldn't stay there forever, but in the chaos of what had happened, it was better there than where everyone could see it.

As he returned to the scene, Kingsley was now consoling the grieving mother, and Harry had returned, grim-faced and grief-stricken. No doubt he, too, was thinking of his own children.

The other Aurors Disapparated with the bound Death Eaters, no doubt taking them to the Ministry, where they could keep them until they could organise a trial.

Harry approached Ron with a bit of parchment in his hand. "I've just got to…."

Ron nodded, handing his wand over to his brother-in-law. He knew what it involved. His wand would have to be tested, they needed to find out who had killed that child.

Harry made the recordings, and then handed his wand back. "Where's he now?" he asked softly.

"In a café," Ron answered, nodding his head in the direction behind him. "He'll have to be moved."

Harry nodded. "Of course. I'll get Hope onto it. I'm sure Kingsley will have no qualms in getting him to do it after what had happened."

Ron nodded too, smiling gratefully.

"I've got to record all the wands, but maybe you and Dean – and the trainees – can start cleaning up? I know it's not ideal, but…." Harry looked over to where Kingsley still had the woman who had lost her child in his arms.

Ron nodded again, understanding. "I'll get onto it," he said. "We need to do it eventually." He left Harry to what he was supposed to be doing, and approached Dean, who was also looking rather bleak at the situation. "Come on, mate, we should probably make this place respectable again to those who live here."

Dean agreed, and together, the two of them began to move the debris that had been caused by the battle in the small village. Neither of them spoke to one another, and although they didn't need to, there was the unexplainable grief that had befallen them. Neither of them had known that child, but they knew what it would be like to lose one.

Ron couldn't control it, but an overwhelming amount of pity washed over him as Kingsley took the woman away. He felt for her, he really did.

Who could be so heartless as to have murdered an innocent child? It just didn't make sense.

OOO

It was dark by the time Ron managed to make it back to his room, exhausted and confused over the day's events. He'd spent the good part of the day clearing the battle zone. Windows had been smashed, doors taken off their hinges, and beams were lying on the ground. Reinforcements had come to help, and even with magic, it had taken them some time.

But, finally, he could go up to his bed (if that's what it could be called) and collapse and just sleep.

He still couldn't get that child's image out of his head. He kept seeing Rose's face on the body, or Hugo. He couldn't believe they had lost someone. It appeared to have been an accident (the child most likely got caught in the crossfire) but it still didn't take away the fact that somebody's wand had done it.

What if it had been his own? He'd never forgive himself. He didn't go out there and intentionally murder the boy, but what if it was still his wand? What would happen to him? Would he go to Azkaban?

No, he wasn't going to think about it. He'd never used an Unforgiveable in his life. That child had been killed by Death Eaters, not an Auror.

He opened the door to the small motel room, only to be almost knocked over by another person.

"Oh, thank God you're alright!" Hermione cried, her arms finding his neck as she pulled him close to her. "I was so worried!"

"I'm fine, Hermione," Ron mumbled, pushing her away slightly. As much as he appreciated her being there right now – he really did – he wasn't in the mood for her fussing.

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "I heard what happened," she said softly. "I'm really sorry."

Ron moved over to the bed and collapsed onto it. She joined him. "It must have been hard."

Ron didn't say anything for a long while. He ran his hands over his face, trying to wipe the images from his mind. "We've never lost anyone before," he said after a long time. "Especially not someone so young."

"It was an accident," Hermione soothed, lying down beside him. She rested her head on his shoulder. "You weren't responsible for that boy."

"No, but we were responsible for protecting those who weren't involved," Ron said. "What if that child was killed because of me?"

Hermione lifted her head, watching him curiously. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Kingsley said that any spell could have killed him, because he was so small… Hermione, I was firing curses left, right and centre. We were out numbered. I wasn't watching. If he wasn't standing back, anyone could have got him."

Gently, Hermione ran her hand down the side of his face. "You can't think like that, Ron. He was just in the wrong place, at the wrong time. You weren't even leading the mission."

"No, bloody Hope was. He's the reason we're in this mess in the first place!" Anger rose in Ron's chest again.

"Then it's not your fault. Nothing is. Kingsley can't blame you. Anyway, you don't know how that boy died. It could have been anyone."

Ron was silent again after that, his mind ticking over. He wrapped his arms around Hermione. "What brings you here?" he asked.

"I wanted to see if you were okay," Hermione whispered. "And, you're not, so I'm glad I came."

Ron smiled into her, placing his lips into her hair. "I'm glad you're here too," he said. "I needed someone to talk to."

"You can talk about it as much as you want, Ron," Hermione said. "I'm here to listen."

And Ron did talk to her. He told her everything he could remember from the house to the battle to the child's death. Eventually, he became too weary to continue.

"Do you need to stay?" Hermione asked, yawning.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, especially now more than ever."

"Then I'll stay with you," Hermione said. "For tonight, at least."

Under any other circumstances, Ron would have told her to go home. It wasn't necessary for her to be there, but in this case, maybe it was. After all, she worked in Magical Law. Perhaps her assistance would be needed.

He smiled drowsily. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Hermione snuggled into his warm, lethargic body, her own eyes drooping. "Just don't blame yourself," she whispered. "You've done nothing wrong."

But Ron didn't answer. His Auror robes still on, and the bed still made, he was asleep.

* * *

 _ **So, here is the promised sequel to In This Together. This story begins in the timeline about 18 months before the first chapter of ITT. If you have read ITT, you are going to have a fair idea of the outcome of this story, but if you're coming into it now, well, I hope you still like me by the end.  
**_

 _ **I really won't suggest what you read first - this or ITT. It's up to you.**_

 _ **Thank you to Sunny Lighter for beta-ing. Muchly appreciated :D**_


	2. October 20, 2020

**October 20, 2020**

"Rosie just sent a letter," Hermione said, waving a scrap of parchment in front of Ron.

"About bloody time," Ron said, taking it from her. Once upon a time ago, Rose had written once a week, sometimes twice. Now, however, it seemed she had more important things to do with her time than write letters to her parents.

It irritated Ron, but then Hermione would remind him that it wasn't like he had kept in touch with his own parents all that often.

Still, Ron thought this was different. This was Rosie.

 _Hi Mum and Dad!_

 _How are you? Sorry I haven't written in a long time, but third year is really hard. There's so much more work, and I keep getting tied up doing homework in the library, but I finally have a spare few moments to write._

 _Has anything new happened? Or is everything much the same? Not much happens when I'm away, does it? I suppose you're just going to work, going home, eating, sleeping… anyway, I don't really have much else to say. School's fine, but there is a lot of work._

 _I can't wait to hear from you again!_

 _Love, Rose_

Ron frowned at the letter, turning it over in the hope that there was more, but there wasn't. Rose had given them no information other than how hard school was – which, in Rose's case, was probably an exaggeration.

There wasn't even an update on Hugo, and how he was dealing with his first year. Hugo said he was liking it, but when it came to their son… it was always hard to tell. Hugo was good had keeping his emotions hidden. He'd tell them he liked it; whether or not he actually did was a different story.

Hermione read his expression. "She's probably just busy, Ron," she said. "You know what Rosie's like. Stresses over nothing."

Ron still didn't like the sound of it. He liked hearing from Rose – and now that Hugo was there too, he liked hearing from him also. He didn't like getting a letter that was written on a torn piece of parchment, and what seemed to be scribbled in a few minutes.

"Well, I'm going to reply and try and get more out of her!" Ron said moodily, collapsing onto the desk in his bedroom. He cleared everything away with his wand and then began writing. He had another hour until work – he could manage something.

From behind him, Hermione sighed, and left the room. It was her day off today, so she was probably planning to go somewhere.

 _Dear Rosie,_

 _It's good to finally hear from you. I was beginning to worry that something had happened to you, but Hugo assured me you were fine. He writes once a week, you know. Like you used to. You really should find some time to write more often, Rosie. We like hearing from you._

 _That aside, I hope all is going well. I can't believe you're already in your third year. In my third year, we had Dementors lurking around the school, but I'm sure that's not the case for you, so don't worry!_

 _How are your classes going besides them being hard? What's your favourite? You chose Divination, didn't you? Is old Trelawney still predicting all of her students' deaths? She told Uncle Harry he'd die every day, yet he's still here, very much alive._

 _I think you –_

There was a knock at the door, and Ron glanced up. Who was knocking? Most people just Floo'd into their house unwelcome. The only ones who knocked were their Muggle neighbours, and if truth be told, Ron was certain their neighbours liked to keep a distance from them. They already thought them unfit parents for not sending their children to school until they were eleven, and even worse, to boarding school.

Not to mention all the times things had happened with Rose and Hugo around. Ron and Hermione had been in so much trouble with the Ministry when Rose had turned a boy's hair blue.

The kid's parents were still baffled as to how that had happened.

Ron made to get up from his seat, but then he heard Hermione's voice at the door, and returned to the letter. He'd only gotten a few more words written, when she called out to him.

"Ron! Kingsley's here!"

This confused Ron. Kingsley was one of the main offenders for dropping by unannounced. Ron couldn't remember him using the door in his life.

This time he really did get up from his chair, and made his way downstairs into the living room. Kingsley was standing there in Ministry robes, a look of forlorn on his face. Harry stood beside him, looking just as concerned.

"What's the matter?" he asked, now becoming slightly worried. Hermione was just as confused he felt. The Minister and Harry knew something they didn't.

Had he filled out some of the paperwork wrong? Had it sent an innocent person to Azkaban? He'd been so careful his whole life with paperwork, but maybe… maybe he'd slipped up somewhere.

"I think we should all sit down for this," Harry suggested, indicating the couch.

Ron did as his friend said, and they all sat down. Kingsley cleared his throat.

"Weasley," he began.

Ron didn't like the sound of this at all. He and Kingsley were on a first name basis. They always had been.

"The report for the wand that killed that small boy a month ago… it's come through."

Ron frowned, trying to remember what Kingsley was talking about, but it didn't take long for the toddler's pale body to come to mind. Somehow, the image had been firmly in his mind ever since it had happened. Sometimes, it took the face of one of his children.

"And?" he questioned nervously. Surely the reason for Kingsley coming here was of some importance. Surely the Minister wouldn't personally come to his house just to tell him. If he wanted Ron to know that news, he would have sent an owl. Or a memo.

The Minister sucked in deep breath, his brown eyes filled with sympathy. Harry was staring at the ground, his hands playing with the robes he was wearing.

"It was your wand," Kingsley said softly.

No one said anything after that. Ron stared blankly at his boss, while Hermione, who had moved closer to him in the past few seconds, was breathing heavily. Harry was still staring at the ground, acting as if he wasn't even there.

Kingsley simply waited for someone to respond, the kindness the man possessed clear on his face in this moment.

"What?" Ron finally managed to get out. "But… how?"

"You said yourself, Ron, that you were throwing curses everywhere in the moment. The Aurors were outnumbered, you were trying to protect as many people as you could under the circumstances."

"But… I wouldn't kill anyone!"

Hermione's hand found his. She didn't say anything, but having her there was enough.

"Of course you wouldn't," the Minister said calmly. "But a Stunning spell is enough to kill a child of that age. The boy was thrown back against the ground. It wasn't the spell that killed him, it was the impact."

Ron shook his head. No, there was a mistake. He wouldn't have killed anyone – intentionally or unintentionally; especially not a child. Occasionally the thought had crossed his mind, but he'd never really believed it. He wasn't a murderer.

He couldn't have….

"What happens now?" That was Hermione. Ron looked to her and saw tears in her eyes. He wanted nothing more than to comfort her in this moment, despite he being the one who had killed someone. She didn't want to believe it either.

"Ron will have to come to the Ministry to officially accept these… circumstances… and then Hope will be suspended indefinitely for his obvious breach of conduct on that mission."

Everyone was confused. Even Harry had lifted his head to wait for what would happen. So, Ron had been the one to kill an innocent child, yet Hope was the one in trouble? It didn't make sense.

"Hope?" Harry questioned.

Kingsley nodded. "Yes. Ron was simply following orders, and you have told me yourself, Harry, that none of you were happy with the way things were handled. After seeing the destruction of that village, I have simply been waiting for the results of the child's death before I acted."

Ron still didn't understand. He shook his head. "So, what happens with me now?" he wanted to know. "I don't get a trial? No Azkaban sentence?"

The Minister shook his head, and Ron thought he saw the hint of a smile on his face. "You will need to give an official statement of your version of events – as will every Auror who fought in that battle – and an investigation will be conducted. However, now that it is clear the child was killed by a Stunning jinx and not the Killing Curse, we are no longer investigating an intentional murder."

This all made no sense to Ron. He wasn't even in trouble. No one was coming to drag him away to Azkaban; he wasn't even being suspended from being an Auror. No, Kingsley was treating it very light-heartedly.

"Kingsley –"

The Minister held up his hand. "I will give you some time to process what has happened," he said gently. "I know you must be very confused and a little shocked at the moment, so I'll let you be. I will return to the Ministry for half an hour, and then I will return to take you back with me." He got to his feet, his brown eyes boring into Ron's blue. "You're not in trouble, Ron. You didn't walk up to that child and kill him. The boy was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and any spell could have killed him. You were not the Auror-in-charge on the mission either, and there are many witnesses who have already stated that you were against Hope's method, and would have gone about it in the correct way if you could have."

"Now, Harry will stay with you. I'll see you soon."

Kingsley left through the way he had come, leaving Ron alone with Hermione and Harry. He buried his face in his hands.

"You okay, mate?" Harry questioned.

Ron shook his head. "I don't believe it," he said. "It can't have been me… it just can't have…." Hermione's arms found him.

"It wasn't your fault," she soothed.

"I still did it!" Ron said. "Whether it was intentional or not, that boy wouldn't have died if I hadn't been there!"

"You don't know that, mate, anything could have happened," Harry said. "You heard what Kingsley said: Hope will be the one paying the price for it, not you."

"Well, it should be me!" Ron snapped. He lifted his head to stare at his wife and best mate. Why were they so calm? Didn't they understand what they had just been told? No, of course they wouldn't. The boy hadn't died from their wands.

"That's not true, Ron," Hermione said. "You'd never kill anyone. I know that and so do Kingsley and Harry. You're an Auror, you don't kill people; you capture them so they can get a fair trial."

Ron shook his head. "I should be sent to Azkaban," he said. "What if that had been Rosie or Hugo… or James, Al… Lily?"

"It wouldn't have been, Ron, because frankly, we're not stupid enough to let our children run wild while there is a battle going on," Hermione told him.

Ron still couldn't believe no one was angry with him. What would that poor mother think when they told her an Auror had killed her son? She'd be furious, most likely – and devastated.

"Listen, mate, you just have to tell your version of events, okay?" Harry said. "I've already given my statement, as has Dean. We both most likely recounted the same story. Kingsley knows you didn't do it intentionally, as do I. It was a tragic accident."

"When will the mother be notified?" Ron asked, directing his question to Harry. He seemed to know much more than he did in this moment. Hermione was in just as much shock as he was.

"Soon," Harry said. "After you give your statement, she'll be told."

"She won't like it," Ron said.

"But she'll understand," Harry promised. "We'll explain it was an accident and that spells were being thrown everywhere. She was there, she saw what it was like. She'll be upset, yes, but she will also be relieved to finally have an answer… and to know that it was an accident and not intentional."

Ron nodded, swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat. Waking up this morning, he'd been in a great mood. He only had a half day at work, and Hermione had the day off. It was a rare occasion for them, and they were looking forward to spending the evening together for once.

But now, he didn't feel like celebrating at all. Part of him just wanted to take himself to Azkaban and demand to be locked up. That way, he wouldn't kill anyone else.

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder, her hand gently stroking his arm in comfort. No one moved from where they were for the full half hour Kingsley was absent. When he returned, he used the Floo this time, startling them all.

"You ready?" he asked kindly.

Ron shook his head. "No, not really," he said. "What do I say? I killed the boy, but I didn't realise I did it?"

Kingsley nodded. "That's exactly what you tell them," he said. "And your version of events that day. What Hope did, how he didn't follow procedure…."

"How I should go to Azkaban?" Ron added bleakly.

"Ron…" Hermione said sadly. She clutched his arm tightly, but he shook her off.

"It's where I belong," he grumbled.

"No, it's not," Hermione said. "Death Eaters belong there, people who have killed in cold blood do. Not you, Ron." She found his hand this time, and he didn't bother to pull away. "I'll go with you."

"I'm afraid, Hermione, that's not possible," Kingsley said. "Ron will need to be by himself for this."

"I am a lawyer," Hermione reminded the Minister.

"Ron doesn't require a lawyer," Kingsley countered. "He's not in trouble."

That still didn't make sense to Ron. How could he not be in trouble? Why did people keep saying that? How was it that he was getting off without punishment? He'd keep asking that question until he got an answer.

"It's okay," he eventually said to Hermione. This time he did let go of her hand, but not before placing a kiss to her forehead. "Stay here with Harry. I'll be back before you know it." He kissed her lips this time, and then made is way to the fireplace with Kingsley.

The Ministry was as busy as any normal day, and just the same. Ron wasn't sure what he had been expecting – perhaps cold stares from people – but those who did see him greeted him as they normally would.

Ron frowned.

"This incident doesn't need to be publicised any more than it should," Kingsley explained. "Those working in the Muggle relations department obviously don't need to hear of what has happened."

Ron nodded, understanding. He was rather pleased. Who knew what would happen if the likes of Rita Skeeter got word of this. She still had it in for them, even after all these years.

Kingsley took him to the Auror department, where there was a long desk with three people Ron had never seen before. They all wore stern expressions and watched Ron with curiosity as he entered.

"They're just here to ask some questions," Kingsley said. "They're… Unspeakables."

Ron raised an eyebrow. An Unspeakeable? Here for him?

This day just got better and better.

He sat down in a chair facing the three Unspeakables staring back at him. Kingsley sat next to him, and for a long while, nobody spoke. Two of the Unspeakables simply shuffled parchment in front of them, while the other stared at him.

Ron fidgeted. Couldn't he just get this over and done with?

Eventually, the middle one looked up and began.

"Mr Weasley, you are aware as to why you are here, yes?"

Ron nodded, swallowing that lump in his throat again. "Yes," he said quietly.

"And you are also aware that this is merely a meeting so we are able to record your statement as to what happened on September ninth?"

Ron nodded again.

"No trial will proceed this meeting unless we see fitting that there should be."

Ron nodded for a third time, and then waited. The Unspeakable to the right now spoke. "Please, Mr Weasley, will you tell us what happened that day?"

For a moment, Ron didn't say anything. What could he say that they didn't already know? But glancing quickly to the Minister beside him, he remembered that that was what they were looking for.

He cleared his throat. "Well, it was supposed to be a standard mission. We had trainees with us, and trainees are only sent on ones that are easy to finish up. We were all fine to go, and then… and then it was revealed that Cygnus Hope was leading the mission."

At that, the Unspeakables shared a look. The one in the middle spoke.

"And, what were your feelings towards Mr Hope?" he asked.

"Well, personally, I think he's a bloody idiot," Ron said without thinking. His ears flushed red after that, realising who he was talking to. "What I mean is… well, I don't think he's very equipped to lead a mission, simple or not."

"Were you alone in this opinion?" the one on the right questioned.

Ron shook his head. "No, Harry and Dean agreed, and, I think after a while, the trainees thought so too."

All three nodded, putting quill to parchment.

"So, you weren't comfortable with Mr Hope leading?" the one on the left asked.

"Not at all, and our concerns were proved right even after King – the Minister left the scene. He didn't complete any of the standard checks of the area, nor did he consider our safety in the situation."

There was more writing, and Ron glanced to Kingsley, asking if he was saying the right thing. The Minister nodded.

"Very well. Mr Weasley, could you please provide us with an accurate recount of what happened that day? Try and remember your positioning in the area as best you can."

Ron nodded, his mind suddenly returning to that day in great detail. He gave them the best account that he could, explaining how they hadn't expected so many Death Eaters and were completely out numbered. As he spoke, a part of him couldn't help but realise Kingsley was also partly to blame. He had also miscounted the danger and left them many Aurors too short.

But he didn't dare bring this up. He wasn't going to get Kingsley in trouble; it was Hope who was mostly at fault, and Ron was determined to make him pay.

When he got to the moment they discovered the boy, he hesitated. He hadn't known what had happened. He hadn't realised that one of those spells he fired in the hope of Stunning a Death Eater had in fact killed a child no older than two.

If he had, he would have stopped fighting there and then.

When he finished, the Unspeakables took some time to finish scribbling. Ron took his wand out of his pocket, much to Kingsley's confusion. "What are you doing?" he asked in a low, deep voice.

Ron placed his wand on the desk in front of the three strangers. "I officially resign from being an Auror," he said. He knew it sounded sudden, but it wasn't. Ever since Kingsley had come to tell him, it had been at the back of his mind. How could he possibly continue with his job after what had happened? What if it happened again? No, he wasn't going to let that happen.

"Mr Weasley, your resignation is not what we are after," the left Unspeakable said. "Just your statement."

"I know that," Ron said, "but I am still choosing to resign."

"Ron," Kingsley said, "resignation or not, you can keep your wand." The Minister's eyes were fierce, but Ron tried to ignore it. He wasn't going to let anyone change his mind in this. It was better if he gave up magic all together.

"I'd rather not perform magic again," he explained, "so I don't want the temptation to be there."

Kingsley shook his head, picking the stick up from the desk. "Don't be a fool!" he said. "Take it back and give yourself some time to think. We understand this is a shock, but no decisions will be made today."

Ron played with the wand, throwing it from hand to hand as if it were a toy. "This wand," he began, "has killed someone, Kingsley. Do you know what it's like to hold something like that?"

"Yet, it has never fired an Unforgiveable before," the Minister countered.

Ron shook his head. "It makes no difference."

"Then get a new wand!"

"I agree, Mr Weasley. What happened was unfortunate, however, it was an accident, and you are by no means going to have your wand taken from you. A thorough investigation has been conducted and we are satisfied you have never used your wand to intentionally kill someone. The spells used are in your job description as an Auror. We now have your statement, and this will be processed. For now, you are free to go and you will be informed of the outcome in a few days' time."

Everyone but Ron got to their feet.

"Mr Weasley, you are free to go."

But Ron simply sat there, unmoving, his confusion returning. "Why am I not having a trial?" he asked.

"Ron," Kingsley said, unable to hide the sigh from his voice.

"No!" Ron continued, his voice rising. "I don't understand. I've killed someone – an innocent child – and you're all treating it like I accidentally blew up a building. A life was lost because of me. That boy could have been the next wizarding genius for all we know! He could have found a cure for… for… something, or he could have found a way to immortality or whatever! But, if that's the case, it's not going to happen now, is it? Because of me…." He slumped into the chair, his whole body shaking. He just didn't know what to do. He was angry, but angry with himself.

How had things gotten so bad in a matter of hours?

Kingsley returned to his seat beside Ron, dark eyes staring into blue. "Ron, this was not your fault, okay? You were trying to save others from being killed. Spells go astray sometimes; this is not the first innocent life we have lost on a mission, nor will it probably be the last. You need to stop beating yourself up over it – and I say that as a friend, not your boss. Put that bloody wand away, and go home. I know it's hard to take in right now, but things will be sorted out."

Still confused, angry and upset, Ron took in a deep breath and finally got to his feet. Kingsley walked him back to the fireplaces, but not speaking.

"Well… thanks for that," he said.

The Minister gave a curt nod. "I understand it's difficult to come to terms with right now," he said.

Ron nodded. It was.

"But have faith, Ron. It happened, yes, but you will pull through it. Everyone will."

Ron nodded again and then stepped into the fireplace. Maybe it would work out, but right now, he couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. Despite what the Minister and Hermione and Harry said, it had still been him who had killed that child, and it was him the mother would blame.

This was something he'd never be able to get over. That child's life was over because of him, and because of it, he'd never be able to forgive himself (even if everyone else did).

* * *

 _ **I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Thank you to Sunny Lighter for beta-ing. Muchly appreciated!  
**_

 _ **If anybody would like me to write them a story in any month of this year (minus February and April) please check my profile for my gift-giving plan and then PM me with a list of pairings and prompts you'd like to see. I love gifting fics, so pretty please don't hesitate to PM me!**_


	3. November 2, 2020

**November 2, 2020**

 _Rose Weasley: A child genius? – by Evelyn Greenhope_

 _Daughter of Ron and Hermione Weasley and third year Hogwarts student, Rose Weasley is proving to be just like her mother in all aspects academia. Ever since beginning her first year at the infamous school, Miss Weasley has proved to be the student all the teachers strive to have in their classes. Not only is she the first one to have her homework finished, rumours suggest she is also able to finish other students' homework._

 _So, what does the young Weasley – the child of two war heroes – have to say about herself?_

 _"_ _Oh, well, I kind of just like having things done," the child said, blushing from the attention that was suddenly on her. "There's nothing worse than leaving things unfinished."_

 _It is said that Miss Weasley's mother was much the same during her time at Hogwarts, which wasn't at all good for her reputation. Nonetheless, Hermione Weasley (nee Granger) is one of the most respectable women in the wizarding world, and, despite her blood status as Muggleborn, has done a lot for all of us in the past years._

 _And, with the way things are going, it appears her thirteen-year-old daughter will be following in her mother's footsteps. I suppose only time will tell._

"Should have known she'd twist it some way," Ron grumbled, throwing the morning paper to the side. They had been informed weeks ago that an article wanted to be written on Rose, and had signed permission form for it to go ahead. What they had not been told was Evelyn Greenhope – a _Prophet_ writer for the past two years – would be the one writing it.

She was the twenty-first century Rita Skeeter, just not as cruel in her writing. She'd always find ways to twist people's words, and would always include people's blood status in there. A half-blood herself, no one was sure as to why she wrote it as if it were a disease.

They thought they'd past that point in society, but apparently not.

"It's not too bad," Hermione said, taking the paper. "I mean, she didn't say anything bad about Rose."

"She managed to inform every one of your blood status," Ron replied.

"It's not like it's private information, Ron."

"That's not the point; she shouldn't even be mentioning it."

"Well, I think Rosie will be delighted. Look, she's even got a photo in there. We should send it to her."

"She's probably seen it already…."

"But she won't have a copy for herself. She practically begged us to agree to it, remember." Making the decision for herself, Hermione rolled the paper up and walked over to the owl's perch, where their family owl rested with her head tucked under her wing. She didn't look at all happy when Hermione woke her, hooting irritably, and nipping Hermione's fingers.

"Take this to Rosie," she instructed, irritated herself (the owl never had liked her for some unknown reason). She attached it to the pet's leg, and – with another hoot – took flight through the window.

Hermione returned to the table, checking her finger. A little blood had been drawn, but it was no worse than usual.

Ron gave her an amused expression.

"It's not funny," she said. "I have no idea what I've down to her to make her hate me so much."

"Probably waking her up doesn't help," Ron replied. "And… she doesn't hate you… she just dislikes you… a lot."

Hermione didn't respond to that, instead choosing to change the topic. "Ron, I've been thinking… we haven't told the kids yet about… what happened."

Ron visibly paled. She didn't need to go into further detail for him to know what she was talking about. It had been on their minds for ages now, despite the mystery being virtually solved. Ron had given his statement on the subject, Hope had been suspended indefinitely, the mother had been informed and all was sorted.

Still, neither of them had breathed a word to Rose or Hugo. They just didn't know how.

"I thought we agreed they don't need to know everything," Ron said, not looking at her.

"I know, but, Ron… I've been thinking; they're old enough to handle it, I think. Besides, it hardly affects them. We should tell them, I think."

Ron shook his head. "No, not yet," he said. "Do they really need to know?"

Hermione nodded. "I think so."

Ron shook his head again. "Well, not yet, and if anyone should tell them, it's me, okay?"

Hermione conceded to this. "That's fair enough," she said, "But please just make sure you do someday soon, okay? I know Kingsley's managed to keep it quiet so far, but I don't think it will stay that way forever. It's better they hear it from us than from someone who's been reading the _Prophet_ at Hogwarts."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, okay. When they come back for Christmas, we'll tell them."

They spoke no further on the matter, each busying themselves for their plans for the morning. It was the weekend, and despite it being cold, the sun was shining. The weather forecast predicted rain around midday, but at least the morning was bright.

They'd planned to spend the morning together.

"So, where should we go, what should we do?" Hermione wanted to know after they'd both changed into clothes. She smiled at him – one which Ron returned. They were still trying to get used to not having the kids around anymore.

Rose had been gone for a few years now, but Hugo had only been gone for two months. It felt strange just being the two of them in the house (or, in Ron's case, just the one, when Hermione was at work).

After going to the meeting with the Unspeakables, Ron hadn't set foot in his office. They hadn't let him return his wand, but it didn't mean he wasn't standing by his word. It wasn't safe for him to practice magic, nor did he think he deserved to remain an Auror.

Despite Hermione, Harry and Kingsley's prompting, he had flatly refused to go back. Even his mother had had words to him, but he wasn't going to cave. Aurors didn't kill.

They didn't seem to understand this.

So, now, he was living the life of an unemployed Muggle. Truthfully, he hated it, but there wasn't much else for him to do. Kingsley's had given him 'leave' until he "returned to his senses", but in the meantime Ron was bored out of his mind.

Spending the day with Hermione was something he was really looking forward to.

"Where do you want to go?" Ron asked her.

"Well, I have to get some things in Diagon Alley, but… that's not important. Why don't we go to Muggle shops in the main town?"

"Muggle shops?" Ron questioned, raising an eyebrow. Hermione knew better than to suggest that to him. Not only did he get completely lost, but he had no clue how to use Muggle money. She'd tried to teach him, but even he admitted he was reluctant to learn.

 _What do I need to know that for?_ he'd ask. _I'm not a Muggle_.

"Well, it's you who's determined never to use magic again, isn't it?" Hermione said. "If you're not using magic, then you can't go to Diagon Alley, so I guess we have to go there." Her tone was teasing – like she knew that'd get to him. She had been completely against him quitting his job, and even more so in his determination to not use magic anymore. She said he was being stupid, yet she hadn't argued too much.

She had been one hundred percent supportive of what had happened these past months.

Ron debated silently, deciding what to say next. On one hand, he knew Hermione was mocking him. She knew he hated being in Muggle shopping complexes and was only suggesting it to convince him to pick up his wand again. On the other hand, he was stubborn, and he wasn't going to give in.

He nodded. "Let's shop like Muggles," he said, trying to sound enthusiastic. After all, he hadn't completely stopped using magic… Hermione just didn't know that.

Hermione saw straight through it, of course, but didn't say anything. "Let's go."

They even travelled by car, which was a long, boring trip. Well, not too long, but still boring. Diagon Alley was further away, yet using the Floo Network, they could have been there in seconds. This took a good fifteen minutes, which set Ron's teeth on edge.

How did the Muggles do it? How did Hermione's mother and father manage it? The local shopping complex in Huddersfield was quite big, and as they found a spot to park and then began walking, Ron couldn't help but feel very self-conscious. Here, he was out of place. Even Hermione – who only shopped here with her parents – appeared slightly out of sorts, but she was just as stubborn as Ron. She wasn't going to cave as much as he wasn't.

It was like fighting fire with fire.

"So, what should we do first, Ron? I'm sure we can find a café here…."

"Do they sell Firewhisky?" Ron questioned. He'd need it at this rate. What in the name of Merlin was he doing?

"No, Ron…."

"Alright, then… lead the way!" He pointed ahead of them. Hermione shook her head, but continued on anyway. They entered the complex, and straight away, found a small café in the corner. Hermione was the first to enter, Ron following uncertainly behind her.

He looked around. He hated Muggle cafés. Food never magically appeared in front of them upon order, the coffee was always bad, and then at the end, he had to try and work out each piece of money, and walk out embarrassed after giving them much more than was necessary.

He'd tried before – the times where he had taken Hermione out when they had just started dating – but it never worked out. He'd much prefer a café in Diagon Alley, and so would she.

A young woman – probably not that much older than Rose – approached them. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Table for two please," Hermione said.

The girl nodded. "This way." And she took them to a spot in the centre of the room where they were surrounded by other couples and people. All Muggles, of course. Ron had no doubt everyone in that room didn't even know of the existence of magic.

The girl left them after that, leaving them to talk between them.

"Nice place," Hermione observed. "I think I came here once with Mum and Dad."

Ron nodded, but didn't say anything. Maybe he should just tell Hermione that he hadn't given up magic completely – that he still used it around the house. But, no, then she would know that he couldn't do it.

"Do you think you can do it?" Hermione then continued, giving him a knowing look. She could read him like a book. Whether he said he was uncomfortable or not, she knew that he was. He didn't need to say anything.

Nonetheless, he gave her a bold look and took another look around them room. "You teach me how to use the money, and it shouldn't be too hard," he said.

Hermione smiled. "That part's easy, Ron."

The girl returned after that, a notepad in hand and asking to take their order. They ordered only coffee, which to Ron's displeasure, took some time to make, and sat there for a long time afterwards.

Midday hit, and Hermione decided they should go home. "Unfortunately, one of us still needs to work, Ron," she said. "And as I'm the most experienced one there today… I should probably see how everything is going."

"In other words, you don't trust the others," Ron said with a smirk. "White there?"

Hermione gave an indifferent shrug. "I think he works today," she said.

Ron snorted. Eddard White was a bloke a good seven years younger than Hermione, yet made it his personal mission to harass her constantly when they were working together. He seemed to have it in his head that she would flirt with him too, but Hermione did nothing but come home complaining about him. Ron thought she should tell Kingsley about it, but Hermione refused.

 _What's the point?_ she would say. _I'm his boss anyway_.

Ron just simply didn't like the bloke. He seemed to think Hermione would just pack up and run away with him. Ron was thankful he only saw him on occasions.

"Well, no snogging him under the desk," Ron said. "Not when I'm not there to check up on him."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because, of course, I do that every day you're not there, Ron."

They were standing out the front of the shop now, Hermione's robes in her bag. She was going to go straight there.

"Try not to be too long," Ron said, kissing her. "It was good spending the day with you."

"It's the weekend, Ron. I haven't worked past three in years."

Ron nodded. "See you at home."

With that, Hermione made her way to a quiet spot where she could Apparate, and Ron went to the car so he could drive it home. He hated that stupid Muggle contraption, despite now being rather decent at driving it. Apparating was much simpler and quicker, but he couldn't leave the car just sitting there. They only ever used it to take the kids to King's Cross after every holiday. Other than that, it sat in the driveway.

Once home, Ron had nothing to do. The clouds were now rolling in fast, threatening the rain that had been predicted, and the house was empty. Even the perch where the owl normally sat was empty, probably almost at Hogwarts now.

He sighed.

When had things become so simple for him, yet so complicated? He thought having no job and being alone in the house would have been like a holiday for him, but that wasn't the case at all. It was boring. He had nothing to do.

He started wondering what was happening at the Ministry right now.

A tapping on the window startled him from his reverie. He swore loudly, jumping to his feet. Who was sending him mail? There was no way Rose would have replied yet (he doubted she even had the paper), but there was no one else, unless it was his mother checking up on him. He wouldn't put it past her. She'd become quite worried in the past weeks.

He moved from the living room and into the kitchen, throwing open the window to let the owl in. It wasn't until the grey creature had landed clumsily on the bench that he realised he didn't recognise it. It hooted once, sticking out its leg for him to take the note.

Ron did just that, hesitantly detaching the scrap parchment. Without another moment's though, the owl took flight, zooming through the window and disappearing.

"I hope I don't have to reply anytime soon," Ron grumbled, shutting the window. "Stupid creature." He opened the letter, sighing, but once he began reading, his eyes widened. "What the…?"

For, on the parchment, was not a letter at all, but a message. It said little, but had great meaning to it.

 _YOU WILL PAY!_

Ron's heart began pounding against his chest as he read the note over and over again. _You will pay_ …. Pay for what? Maybe the owl had delivered to the wrong spot. It wasn't uncommon, especially for an owl looking so old and weathered. He remembered Errol, his family owl many years ago. The number of times that useless creature had delivered a letter to the wrong address….

Still, there was something about it that unsettled Ron; something that made him think it had been intended for him. Perhaps word about what had happened two months ago had gotten out….

He folded up the note and tucked it into his pocket. There was no point in dwelling on that now. Whether he had meant to receive that or not, he wasn't going to let it ruin his day. He'd – for once – got to spend the morning with his wife, and then she'd be home again before dark. It was a rare occasion (but occurred more often now that he had quit being an Auror) and he was looking forward to it.

Silly messages like that weren't going to spoil his relatively good mood.

OOO

"Ron, you seem distracted." Hermione was just about to extinguish her wand light as she set her book aside, but Ron tossing and turning beside her was distracting her. He'd been in a funny mood ever since she'd come home. At first, she had put it down to boredom. Ron loved being an Auror and she knew not being one anymore was really affecting him (whether it'd been his decision or not).

Now, though, she thought something else was bothering him. She just didn't know what.

"Just can't sleep," Ron mumbled, his eyes closed. "Not until you turn off the light."

Hermione set her wand aside, the room going black in the process. She lied down beside him, and for a while, he did settle, but not for long.

"Ron… what is it?"

"Nothing," Ron said, and she knew he was lying.

"Ron… neither of us is going to sleep while you're like this. You may as well tell me now, or I'll find out eventually anyway." She pulled away from his arms and lit her wand again. He was now lying on his back, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling.

He shrugged. "It's nothing," he said.

"And that's why you can't sleep, I suppose? Did something happen today? Something I don't know about?"

Ron shrugged again.

"Do I have to guess?"

Ron shook his head, picking is own wand up for the first time in weeks. He waved it and a moment later a small bit of parchment was in his hands. He passed it to her.

Hermione read the short note, her eyes widening in surprise. "You got this today?" she asked.

Ron nodded, his expression solemn. "There's no name, so I have no idea…."

"Oh, Ron…."

He shrugged. "It's not an issue, really. Probably some kids thinking it'd be funny or something. Didn't even recognise the owl. Some old, grey thing that looked like it'd drop off its perch any moment."

Hermione shook her head. "Ron, that's not the point. You should report this. They can find the owl and see who it belongs to!"

"Do you really think they'd use an owl of their own?" Ron questioned. "Come on, Hermione. I worked as an Auror for a good twenty years. Most people – unless they want to be caught – don't send threats with their own owl."

"So, it's still worth it…."

Ron snatched the note away from her, screwing it into a small ball. "No, it's not," he said irritably. "I don't even know what I am paying for!"

Hermione didn't say anything after that. She knew it had affected Ron, even though he was doing a very bad job at trying to hide it. If it wasn't a big deal to him, he would have told her straight away, and thrown the letter out. The fact that he had kept it on him, and kept it from her, was the biggest indication that he was worrying about it.

"Maybe word got out…" she said after a while. She knew Kingsley had tried to keep that mission under wraps, but surely someone had to speak of it eventually, even if it was by accident. Less knew that it was Ron's wand that had killed the child, but again, it only took one person to say something.

"If that were the case, Hermione, I'm sure I would know by now. No, it's not that."

Hermione wasn't at all convinced, but she didn't want to worry Ron further. She gently took the threat out of his hand and set fire to it with her wand. "Well," she said, "let's not worry about it anymore. Maybe you're right – maybe it was just kids having some fun. Maybe Rosie and Hugo were –"

"We taught them better than that, Hermione," Ron interrupted. "But maybe it was one of their friends…."

Hermione nodded. "Maybe," she said.

She extinguished her wand for the second time that night, and lay back down beside Ron. "It'll be okay," she assured him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Besides… on the bright side, it got you to use magic again."

She felt Ron place a kiss on the top of her head. "I've been using it for the past week," he said. "I just didn't tell you."

Hermione smiled. "I know," she said. "I was just waiting for you to confess to it. Dishes can't be cleaned that well without it."

"I don't think I ever told you how grateful I was that you've been so supportive," Ron then mumbled into her hair.

Ron…."

"No, I'm serious. You didn't even bat an eyelid when they told me. Didn't even question it."

"Ron, of course I'm not going to think you killed some boy on purpose," Hermione replied, trying not to sound as offended as she felt.

"But –"

"No buts, Ron! That's absolutely ridiculous. You'd rather die before you let anything happen to Rosie and Hugo…."

They were silent after that, both probably realising that they'd reached the same conclusion without even knowing it. Despite not speaking it, both knew that note had something to do with what had happened.

There was no other explanation.

* * *

 _ **Thank you to my lovely beta, Sunny Lighter.  
**_

 _ **I hope everybody enjoyed this chapter :) Please review if you read it!**_

 _ **Also, if you would like me to write a story for you in a month of this year, pretty please send me a PM. Honestly, I love gifting fics, so I really want to do it. Please send me a PM with a list of pairings and prompts (format on my profile). It's March, and nobody has claimed March yet, so if you'd like, send me a PM!**_


	4. December 21, 2020

**December 21, 2020**

King's Cross Station was packed with Muggles and wizards as they all pushed past one another to get to their correct train. Ron and Hermione made their way through the invisible barrier, landing on the other side.

Platform nine and three quarters was worse than the Muggle side. Where they were all spread out, all the families of Hogwarts students were squished onto one platform, barely finding the space to move.

"Next time, we wait for them on the other side," Ron said, making his way through the crowd. "Mum used to do it for us."

"It seems more crowded this year," Hermione acknowledged. "Maybe Hugo's year was a big one."

They found a clearing somewhere in the middle and claimed it before anyone else did. It wasn't until a few moments later did they realise they were standing in front of Percy and Audrey.

"Hello," Audrey said from behind them.

Both of them spun around, slightly startled. These past months, both of them had been rather on edge, especially since Ron had received that letter. It was slightly unnerving for both of them.

"Hey," Hermione said, giving her brother and sister-in-law a smile. "Sorry, we didn't see you here."

Audrey looked around the platform. "Does it seem more crowded this year?" she asked uncertainly.

"Ron and I were just saying the same thing," Hermione said, noting Audrey's uneasiness. She didn't blame her, though, and frankly, she was rather impressed by Audrey's acceptance of the magical world.

It had taken Percy quite some time to reveal to her he was a wizard, and rather than running away screaming, Audrey had embraced it. She had been more than happy to send her two children off to a magic school, and seemed more than happy to be the only non-magical person in the family.

She handled it better than most, and despite her difficulties with Percy sometimes, Hermione got along quite well with his wife.

They waited for ten minutes or so before they saw the first sign of the train. A puff of white smoke came from around the corner, and then the sound of soft chugging as the Hogwarts Express slowed down, and eventually stopped all together.

While most parents and siblings shuffled forward to be the first to catch a glimpse of their missing family members, Ron and Hermione, and Percy and Audrey all took a step back. They'd wait for their children to come to them, not the other way around.

The crowd slowly thinned as parents and children were reunited. The four Weasleys slowly edged forward, waiting for their own children to exit the train.

"Why are they always last?" Ron said. "Every time."

Eventually, however, a wave of red hair exited the train together, mixed with other colours. There were James, Albus and Lily, who looked around for Harry and Ginny, followed by Rose and Hugo. Beside them stood Lucy – Percy and Audrey's youngest daughter – and last was Molly.

Molly, as per usual, had a very sour expression on her face, and it didn't take them long to notice Rose's either.

Hermione sighed. "They've been fighting again," she said.

"Why can't they just get along?" Audrey questioned.

"A conflict of friendships, I believe," Percy stated matter-of-factly. "From what Molly tells me, she doesn't understand why Rose is friends with Scorpius Malfoy, or why he's friends with her… something about him being too _good looking_."

Although Rose had not mentioned her feelings towards Draco Malfoy's son, Hermione had always suspected her daughter fancied the boy, in a way a thirteen-year-old could. The two had been friends since their first year – much to Ron's displeasure – and it seemed that perhaps Scorpius fancied Rose too.

And now it seemed Molly fancied him as well, which explained why she had Rose did not get along at all anymore.

It seemed Molly might have been jealous of Rose.

Their children approached them, Hugo giving them a wide smile, but Rose looking rather distance; she was looking over her shoulder every few seconds, as if looking for someone.

This behaviour didn't escape her brother. He smirked. "He's gone, Rosie," he teased.

"Who's gone?" Ron questioned, squinting into the crowd, trying to see what his children were talking about.

" _Scorpius_ ," Hugo sang. "Rosie fancies Scorpius!"

Rose hit him.

"Rose!" Hermione scolded. "Don't hit your brother!"

"Well, he shouldn't lie," Rose huffed, and she marched forward, her trunk remaining at her feet for Ron to take.

He looked questioningly at Hermione, who shrugged. That was very odd behaviour for Rose. Normally, she was the first one to greet them, smiling and giving them a hug. This time, however, she'd barely acknowledged their existence.

As their home was a long drive from London, they were staying the night in the Leaky Cauldron. They did this every time, but this year, Harry and Ginny decided to stay with them. They lived close enough to King's Cross to drive home, but something about not wanting to go home was their excuse.

It was a bad idea, of course, because when Rose and Hugo got with their cousins, chaos happened. It had started when they were just toddlers, and hadn't improved with age at all. In fact, it was probably worse now that they were older.

"Lily, Rosie, you can take this room," Ron said, chucking his daughter a key. "Hu, Al and James, take this one. And… twenty-two or twenty-seven?" he asked Harry and Ginny.

"Ron, it doesn't bother me," Ginny said, sighing. She stuck out a hand for her brother to hand her the key to room twenty-seven, and they were gone.

"Twenty-two it is, then," Ron said, lifting up his overnight bag. "Let's check it out."

The room was exactly the same as every other one they'd stayed in at the pub. It was old, moth-ridden, and probably rats as well. The bed creaked, and was uncomfortable, but would do for a night.

Hermione sat down, sinking low into the mattress, but Ron sitting beside her evened it out slightly.

"Rosie seems a bit different, doesn't she?" he said.

Hermione nodded. "She does. Maybe she's just distracted by school work."

"Or Scorpius Malfoy," Ron said, almost inaudibly. "She's too young for boys."

"She'll be fourteen in six days," Hermione reminded him. "I think it's the exact age she would be interested in boys."

"Not Malfoy's kid!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "So, you'd rather she snogged Dean Thomas' son?" she asked.

"Has she?"

"No, Ron. Well… I don't know, and frankly, it's none of our business if she has."

"She's thirteen, Hermione!"

"Yes, not three. Anyway, Ron, we have more important things to worry about now. We're going to have to tell them. We'll have to tell them what happened, and why you're not working. They're going to want to know."

Ron's expression made it clear he would have preferred his little girl to be dating Malfoy's son than to have to tell his children he killed a child.

"Ron, they're not going to hate you," Hermione said gently, understanding.

"You don't know that."

"You're their dad, and they're old enough to understand. They know you wouldn't do anything like that on purpose."

Ron grunted. "Maybe… they'll definitely look at me in a different light, though."

"No they won't! Ron, you're the laid back one; the one that lets them get away with things I wouldn't. And they love you very much, okay, so don't worry. It works both ways, remember? You know they wouldn't do anything like that, just like they know you wouldn't." Hermione patted his hand. "It'll be okay. I know Harry and Ginny are here, but I think we should go out for dinner tonight – just the four of us."

"Tonight?" Ron said.

"Yes," Hermione said. "The sooner the better. I'll let them know, and tell them to be ready by six. I can't remember the last time it was just the four of us."

OOO

They found a nice restaurant in Diagon Alley that contained a few other families in there, staying overnight before going home. It was quite strange how many people used cars now, rather than Flooing.

Hermione thought some, like them, enjoyed the drive, while some others probably had to. She waved to Lavender and Seamus – and their three children – on her way in. They had a much longer way to travel to Ireland. They probably all needed to recover.

They were directed to a table by a young woman who looked no older than nineteen or twenty. When she smiled at Rose, acknowledging her, it was apparent that the two girls knew each other. They didn't speak, but the waitress addressed them as the Weasleys.

"She a friend from school, Rosie?" Ron asked once they were seated.

Rose shrugged. "We saw each other in the library sometimes," she explained. "Her name's Kennedy Wilkins."

"Gryffindor?" Ron continued.

Rose shook her head. "Hufflepuff."

From under the table, Hermione nudged Ron. She knew he was nervous about telling them, but she also knew they had to get it over and done with. What had happened wasn't going to stay secret forever, and if they found out from someone else, they were going to be more upset than they would be hearing it from their parents.

However, if Ron had felt her, he ignored her, continuing to ask their children about Hogwarts.

"So, you liking it, Hu?" he said, staring pointedly at his son, causing Hugo to shy away slightly.

"Er… I guess," he said.

"You _guess_? Is anything wrong, mate? Any kids giving you a hard time? Because if they are, then I will –"

"No one's giving me a hard time, Dad," Hugo interrupted, seeming to sense his father's coming rant. Ron sometimes let things get away from him, and now that they were older, Rose and Hugo were better at noticing that and putting their feet down.

They were very strong-willed, Hermione acknowledged with a half-smile. Which was good, of course. They needed to be in their family.

"So, what's up then?" Ron pressed.

Hugo shrugged, making it clear he didn't want to talk about it. "I dunno… it's just… school… and magic… I'm not very good at it."

"That's nonsense!" Hermione admonished. "You're an excellent young wizard, Hugo, and don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise!"

Hugo turned a deep red, looking around the room to see if anyone had heard. They didn't, though; all too preoccupied with their own problems to be worrying about anyone else's.

"Yeah, I agree," Rose said. "You're great. I mean, no one else could pull a prank like that in the common room and get away with it."

Silence followed Rose's statement, Rose looking very guilty, and Hugo blushing. Ron and Hermione both watched their two children with anticipation, waiting for one to elaborate.

Neither did, though.

"So, will we have to guess what this so-called prank was?" Hermione said after a while. "Or will you just tell us?"

"It was brilliant, Mum!" Rose exclaimed. " _Hugo_ was brilliant!"

"Rosie…" Hugo complained.

"What, you should be proud of it. Jasmine was being a bitch and –"

"Rose!"

"What? She was! And Hugo really put her in her place. She couldn't walk for a week!"

At that, Ron raised his eyebrows, looking at his son with a half amused, half intrigued expression. "Sounds… interesting," he said.

"It does," Hermione muttered. "But, anyway, we also have some news of our own." She smiled brightly, but Ron stiffened beside her.

"After we eat!" he declared, calling over the waitress again.

This time it was their children's turn to look at them curiously. Hermione could only imagine what was going through their heads, and she was certain the actual story wouldn't have even crossed their minds.

They ordered, and when the waitress walked away, Rose said, "You're not pregnant are you?"

"Merlin, I hope not!" Ron said instantly. He looked to Hermione. "You're not, are you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No." _Thankfully_.

"Okay, good, because that would be kind of gross, knowing that while we're away at school, you're…." Rose shook her head, not finishing her sentence.

"Just because your mother isn't pregnant, doesn't mean we don't –"

" _Anyway_ ," Hermione said loudly, trying desperately to divert the topic, "I think you should both listen very carefully to your father, as he has some important news to tell you."

Four eyes turned to Ron, and now it was his turn to look uncomfortable.

"Maybe we should eat first," he said.

"I think now's better," Hermione replied.

"Did you get a promotion at work, Dad?" Hugo asked.

Ron didn't say anything. He began playing with the corner of the table cloth, his eyes staring at the ground.

Hermione sighed. "No, he didn't," she said. "But work has something to do with it. Your dad is taking some time off work at the moment. He has since October, due to an incident that happened a few months ago."

"Like what?" Rose questioned. "Did you get into a fight with someone?"

"You could say that," Ron mumbled, shooting Hermione a scathing look. She simply returned it with an even more dangerous one. He had to tell them, whether he liked it or not.

"Did you punch someone, Dad?" Hugo asked, his eyes widening in what seemed to be excitement.

"Or hex them?" Rose added

Ron shook his head, still refusing to look at them. "I did nothing of the sort," he grumbled.

"So, now it's _our_ turn to guess, I suppose," Rose then said irritably. "We told you about Hugo's prank!"

" _You_ told them, Rosie," Hugo reminded her.

At that moment, their food appeared in front of them, putting a stop to any conversation. Ron looked thoroughly relieved that he had escaped telling them, and began eating instantly.

Hermione looked towards him. "You will have to tell them eventually," she said. "You know you will."

Ron pointedly ignored her, but continued to eat in silence.

Both Rose and Hugo gave Hermione questioning looks, but she shook her head, sighing internally. "Another time," she said to them quietly. "It's not that important."

She knew Ron's only reason for not wanting to tell them was because he hated himself for what had happened, and he thought they would too; but he needed to give them more credit. They were both very intelligent people, and despite Rose's reaction to them earlier, very family-oriented. They loved Ron very much, and they would be upset before they were ever ashamed or embarrassed of him.

He just needed to realise that himself.

* * *

 _ **Thank you again to Sunny Lighter for beta-ing!**_

 _ **I am still offering to write a story for you in a month between May and December. So, pretty please PM me a list of pairings and prompts (format on profile) and I'll add you. I promise, I don't care if we've never spoken before. I will always accept :D**_


	5. January 8, 2021

**January 8, 2021**

His palms were sweatier than the day he married Hermione. How had he allowed the others to talk him into this? He wasn't cut out for being an Auror. It wasn't for him. If it was, he never would have left in the first place, but nagging from Hermione and insistence from Harry and Kingsley had finally brought him back to the Ministry.

Much to his own discomfort.

"You'll be fine, Ron," Hermione promised, rolling over in bed to kiss his cheek. She seemed to have sensed his restlessness before either of them had gotten up – perhaps it had even woken her. "You were a fantastic Auror before you left, and you will be again. Just don't stress, and do what you used to do." She propped herself onto her elbow, giving him a sympathetic smile.

Ron tried his best to ignore her. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate her support – because he did – he just didn't know whether to believe her. Yes, he had been a fairly decent Auror before last September; but now he didn't know. Over the years, his confidence in his own abilities had skyrocketed, but now he wasn't so sure.

What if it happened again? What if he was on another mission and the same thing occurred. Kingsley couldn't look past it then. He'd be forced to act.

Hermione seemed to read his mind… like she always did. "It will never happen again," she assured him, giving him another kiss. "Anyway, didn't Kingsley say you could do the desk duties until you were ready to go back out?"

Ron nodded bleakly, finally deciding to get out of bed. He sat up slowly, brushing Hermione's final attempt of comfort off. He felt guilty for it, but he just needed to get through today. Once that was over, maybe he'd be more receptive.

He rummaged through the wardrobe, locating the Ministry robes he had long since put away. How strange it felt to be putting them on again when he thought he'd never see the day. Despite his insistence that going back was a bad idea, having them on again made him feel good… like he mattered again.

Hermione watched him with a smile. "See," she said, amused, "It feels right, doesn't it?"

Ron grunted something, and then moved to the doorway. "Maybe not right," he said, "But it certainly feels good to be able to get up and do something other than lie in bed and feel sorry for myself." The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. They had been on his mind for weeks now – months, even – but he had never dared speak them to Hermione in fear she would tell him to go back. But now that he had finally told her, it was as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Every step he made to go back, the easier things became.

Hermione's smile widened, but she didn't say anymore on the subject. Instead, she also hopped out of bed, bubblier than she had been for a long time. "I'll be in the shower," she said. "Call if you need anything."

Ron smirked, his bad mood already being eased by seeing her so happy. Even if he didn't feel it, going back excited her, and, for now, that was enough. "I'm fairly certain I can manage to make my own breakfast," he said teasingly. "I haven't become completely useless, you know."

"No, just lazy," Hermione said.

Ron scowled. "I am not!"

"You barely played Quidditch with Hugo in the week he was here. He was disappointed, you know. He wanted to."

A pang of guilt crept up on Ron as he remembered the many times over Christmas Hugo had asked if they could play Quidditch in the homemade pitch they had in the backyard. It had become a tradition for them to always practice over the holidays, but he had been feeling so down on himself at that time, he'd taken it out on his son.

Hermione read his expression. "You'll just have to make it up to him next time," she said. "Now, I really do need to have a shower. I'll see you in a little while." She disappeared to the bathroom.

Ron went down into the kitchen for breakfast. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been up this early. Most mornings, he hadn't bothered to get out of bed until after Hermione had left. On the days she didn't have to work, he didn't bother until she made him.

He hated to admit it, but looking back, the past few months hadn't been his best. He was glad to be doing something different.

Hermione joined him just as he was finishing, her hair wet from the shower and dressed in her own work robes. As they both worked in departments which focused on wizarding law, their robes were black. Other departments – such as the sports ones – wore green. This had been Kingsley's idea when he had been made Minister.

Ron and Hermione both thought it added division, but at the same time, it was easy to distinguish.

"You are looking forward to it, aren't you Ron? Going back, seeing everyone again? Even if it is just all the paperwork."

As Ron set his dishes to clean, he shrugged. "I'll be glad to get out of the house," was all he said.

The rest of the morning, they didn't really speak to one another. Ron's head was in another space, and Hermione didn't push it. But they left together, Hermione being there for moral support.

The Ministry of Magic was bustling with activity when Ron stepped through the fireplace. There were workers everywhere, most he didn't even know they name of. This had nothing to do with him being absent for three months. He'd never known everyone. Only the people in his department and the occasional one in Hermione's.

He'd see someone he went to Hogwarts with every once in a while, but a lot of them didn't even work here.

"See… hasn't changed much," Hermione said. She glanced up at the big clock on the wall. "Ron, I have to go now, but I'll come and see you later, okay?"

Ron nodded. "See you."

Hermione hurried off in a direction that wasn't the way Ron wanted to go. He made his way to a set of elevators that would take him to his office. He really hoped no one would make a big fuss over his return. Drawing attention to the fact that he was back after killing someone wasn't really what he wanted.

He just hoped it would start like every day would. He'd walk in, those who were there would say hello, and he'd sit at his desk until his lunch break, sorting through piles of paperwork. He had hated those days then, but now he wanted it.

He stepped into the elevator, hoping to go unnoticed, but there was no such luck. Apparently his absence had been recognised throughout the whole workplace, and even those from departments he had nothing to do with knew.

It was Michael Corner who greeted him in the elevator – the git that had dated his sister a long time ago. He wasn't a bad bloke, Ron knew that, he just didn't want to talk to him right now.

"I heard a rumour you were coming back today," he said, grinning. "How'd your holiday go?"

Holiday? Is that where people thought he was – on holiday? If it had been a holiday, he would have enjoyed himself, not sat at home moping each and every day.

But, rather than snapping, Ron simply nodded. "It was good," he said to Michael. "Nice to be away from everything here." Well, that wasn't a lie.

"I bet," Michael said. The elevator came to a shuddering halt, and Michael feel forward slightly. "Wish I could take three months off and still get paid for it."

Ron didn't have a response for that. It hadn't been his decision to still earn money while he was at home. Kingsley had insisted, and despite his slight argument, Ron hadn't fought too much. One could never win against the Minister for Magic. He'd learnt that a long time ago.

"Well, I'm back to reality now," he eventually said, moving forward as the elevator stopped on his floor again. "This is me. It's good to see you again." He stepped out before Michael could reply.

It wasn't far to the Auror department. Just down the hall, in fact.

Too close.

He braced himself for a big, over-exaggerated welcome back, but when he entered the room, the three people that were in there barely glanced up.

Ron wasn't sure if he was relieved or offended by everyone's lack of interest.

It was Harry who noticed him first, and he got up from his seat, coming over to greet him. "Hey, mate," he said, smiling.

Ron moved to his own desk, noticing nothing had been moved. It was still as messy as it had been the day he'd left it, and the photo of a younger Rose and Hugo was still the centrepiece.

"Hey," he said to his brother-in-law.

"You glad to be back?"

Ron shrugged. Was that the question he was going to be asked with every person he saw today? He saw Harry at least once a week anyway. Surely he'd be over asking. "Let me start and then I'll tell you." He smiled crookedly. "Might as well get started. What do you want me to do?"

With Hope let go, Harry had been moved to first in charge. Rumour had it – from Dean, not Harry – that everything was running much more smoothly with someone capable. However, Dean also said that having Harry as boss made everything that much more chaotic at the same time.

Ron wasn't sure what he meant by that.

"Are you sure you don't want to slowly adjust to being back?" Harry questioned.

"I'm here to work, aren't I?" Ron questioned, sounding harsher than he intended. He always got angry with Rose when she snapped like that, but listening to himself now, he realised she's inherited her temper from him.

Harry nodded, realising it was probably best not to argue with his best mate. "I'll start with a simple case," he said. "The recount of events has been done, there's just some odd things that need fixing. You up for it?"

Ron nodded, accepting the file from Harry.

"You'll need these two as well," Harry added, putting two more files on his desk. "They're all related – that much we know. It's your job to work out how."

Eager to get back into it, Ron opened to first file, reading over it. Harry was right: some things didn't add up, but reading the other two files filled in some missing pieces. It seemed there was a serial killer around, but they were only after a certain type of person.

He spent all morning on the case, writing down as many notes as he could. It was midday when Hermione came to see him, and by then, he'd discovered that they were only after people born in a certain year – his and Harry's birth year.

He frowned.

"Hey, how's it going?"

He looked up, cheered by Hermione's smiling face. "Harry's treating me like a slave," he teased. "Nothing new."

Hermione laughed. "You okay to come to lunch… that okay, Harry?"

Harry looked up at them and nodded. "Go for it," he said. "He's been working like a slave for three hours."

Ron got up from his desk, his body stiff from not moving for so long. They went to the cafeteria where they'd had many lunches together, and found a place near the back, away from prying eyes.

Even after all these years there were still a select few who thought them celebrities. It tended to be the younger ones, just out of Hogwarts.

"So, everything's okay, really?" Hermione questioned when they were alone.

Ron nodded. "Everything is perfectly fine," he assured her. "Harry's got me writing the report of some case that must have happened when I wasn't there. It is an odd one, but nothing different to what I've seen before."

"Is that the one with the three incidents that are very similar?" Hermione asked.

"You know about that?" Ron said, surprised. His and Hermione's department worked closely together most of the time, but generally they only found out about it after they received the finished report.

"Harry mentioned it," Hermione said. "Said it was doing his head in. It's probably why he passed it off to you." She smiled.

"They've only killed people born in nineteen-eighty," Ron told her.

Her eyes widened in alarm. "Your year?"

Ron nodded.

"Ron…."

He waved her away. "Hermione, I'm looking into it, okay. All the victims have been female, though, so I don't think I need to worry, and nor do you."

She didn't look all that convinced, but didn't push the subject further. They didn't generally talk about work when they were on their break. It defeated the purpose. "Well, I was thinking… because this is your first day back, we should go out tonight to celebrate. Or we can have Harry and Ginny over?"

Ron shrugged. Being back had put him in a much better mood and he really didn't mind having company. A week ago, he would have resented it, but now he'd love to have his sister and brother-in-law over again. "Sounds good," he said.

"Great, well, check with Harry when you get back, okay?"

Ron nodded, just as a memo came zooming his way, landing in front of him with a whoosh of air.

"Bloody hell, I forgot how things worked around here," he groaned, picking up the memo. "You can't get a break."

Hermione smiled. "You see what it says, and I'll go and get us lunch."

Ron waited until she was gone before he decided to read it. What did Harry want now? Or was it Kingsley? He hadn't seen Kingsley all morning; the Minister probably wanted to check up on him, see how he was doing.

But it wasn't either of them, and when he read what the memo said, his heart clenched.

 _YOU KILLED MY SON!_

Ron swallowed, glancing around the cafeteria. No one else was at all interested in what appeared to be a work memo, and in that moment he was truly grateful. He looked to Hermione who was still in the line to order, and felt a pang of guilt. He'd have to tell her – she'd be pissed if he didn't – but she deserved none of this. None of it was her fault, yet because she was his wife, she had unwillingly become involved in this whole mess.

She didn't mind, he knew that, but it didn't stop him from feeling guilty over it.

He folded the note up and sat it on the table, waiting for Hermione to return. She came bearing two coffees and two sandwiches, smiling as she returned to her seat.

"Was that Kingsley?" she asked, nodding towards the memo.

Ron shook his head, unable to hide the feeling of dread that had overwhelmed him in the past few minutes.

Hermione saw it straight away. "What happened?" she asked, her smile vanishing.

Ron slid the note over to her and waited for her to read. She shook her head.

"I guess the mother wasn't as forgiving as we originally thought," he said, trying to smile. He failed miserably.

"Ron, she can't do this!" Hermione said, her voice growing louder. Ron shushed her. The last thing he needed now were people asking more questions.

"Take it to Kingsley," Hermione continued, whispering now. "Show him. He's the Minister, he can do something about it!"

"Like what?" Ron asked. "Anyway, what's the point? They're just letters."

"The last one was a threat, Ron," Hermione said. "Do you still have it?"

"Yes, because I keep all threats I get," Ron grumbled.

"Ron, this isn't good."

"She's just grieving," Ron said. "As any mother whose son was killed by an Auror would."

"Not everyone would send you letters, Ron. She knew it was an accident."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't bring her son back, does it? Would you just let it go if it was Rose or Hugo?"

Hermione didn't say anything.

"Listen, Hermione, it's just a note, okay. It's fairly harmless, and given what has happened, I'm not going to worry too much about it. She's a grieving woman, and if I could, I would go and see her personally and explain what's happened. But I can't, because she's gone away. So let's just let it go, alright?"

Hermione bit her lip, quite clearly resisting the urge to say more on the subject. She looked quite frightened, Ron realised, which confused him. Yes, it probably wasn't good to get a second letter from her, but they were just plain letters. There was nothing else to them.

For now, he saw no need to report it to Kingsley.

"Anyway, let's not fret over something trivial," he said, trying to sound positive. "Our coffee will get cold, and our break will be over before we get the chance to eat." He took one of the sandwiches. "Everything will be alright."

Hermione still didn't look convinced, but she agreed to not talk about it anymore. Although Ron had been the one to say not to stress over it, when he returned to the Auror department an hour later, that letter was the only thought on his mind.

* * *

 _ **Thanks once again to Sunny Lighter for beta-ing!  
**_


	6. February 16, 2021

**February 16, 2012**

"Ron, for Heaven's sake, your sister will be here in any moment."

"What? I'm ready."

Hermione sighed, shaking her head at Ron's appearance. It had been a while since they'd invited Harry and Ginny over to their place without the kids around, and she wanted it to go well. Their lives had been a bit secluded since September of last year.

"Well, do you want me to change?" Ron asked irritably. "I didn't realise our house was a five star hotel."

Hermione glared at him with folded arms, but didn't say anything. She just shook her head.

"Fine," Ron said. "I won't."

"Is it really going to be like this, Ron?" Hermione then questioned. "Even when they're here?"

"If you'd get off my back about every little thing…."

"I'm not on your back!"

"You are! If it's not what I'm wearing, it's that I'm not up in time to go to work – which I always am by the way – or I haven't done enough when I've been slaving away in that bloody bathroom because you said no magic."

"Ron…."

"It's true, Hermione! Just because I went through a bad patch at the end of last year, you seem to think I've gone into some deep depression or something. Well, I haven't. I'm okay, alright? Nothing's wrong."

"Ron!" Hermione pointed behind him, and when Ron turned, Harry and Ginny were standing there looking very uncomfortable.

"Hi," he said, a little less enthusiastically than he should have.

Hermione was a deep shade of red now, but she ushered them into the living room.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Harry asked, looking between his two friends. "If tonight's a bad time, we can reschedule."

Hermione shook her head. "No, no, it's fine," she assured them, but her voice was rather quiet. "You haven't been around in months."

"Not their fault, is it?" Ron grumbled.

Hermione eyes were shooting daggers. After Harry and Ginny left, she probably wouldn't talk to him for the rest of the night, or perhaps the rest of the week.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked, trying to break the tension that was obviously in the room now. "You're always inviting us over, so now it's our turn." She tried to smile.

"Glass of wine would be fine, thanks, Hermione," Ginny said. Harry nodded.

Hermione moved into the kitchen to pour the glasses, leaving the room silent with the remaining three. Ron shuffled uncomfortably in the armchair he was sitting in, and it was then that Ginny spoke.

"Have you guys been fighting again?" she said.

Ron glared at his sister. "Again?" he snapped.

"Well… you told Harry it's been happening a lot lately," she replied.

Ron now glared at his friend. "Thanks, mate."

Harry didn't meet his eye.

"We're not fighting," Ron then explained. "Just…."

"Bickering?"

"No."

"Well, sorry to break it to you, Ron, but neither of you look all that happy right now, and when we arrived, you were saying some pretty unpleasant things to her."

"It's none of your business," Ron grumbled, and the conversation died after that as Hermione returned, levitating four glasses of wine with her wand. She set them all on the coffee table in front of them, and tried to force another smile.

"So, Ginny, how are the kids going at school?"

But there was no time for Ginny to answer the question that shouldn't have even been asked between relatives who were as close as they were, as there was a tapping at the window, informing them there was mail waiting for them.

"Post this late?" Harry questioned, getting up to go and get it. Hermione stopped him.

"It happens occasionally," she mumbled, before hurrying into the kitchen to retrieve the mail. She returned moments later with a rather pale face, and dumped the one letter into Ron's lap. She didn't say anything, and Ron didn't have to read it to know what it was. The letters had been coming more frequently now – about once a week – and they hadn't said anything to anyone about it.

Sometimes it was during the day, other times it was when they were in bed. And, like tonight, it arrived in the evening.

Harry and Ginny, who weren't oblivious to the additional tension in the room, couldn't keep their business to themselves any longer.

"Alright," Ginny said. "Which one of you is going to tell us what's going on? Hermione, you knew what that letter was going to be, and Ron… why do you look so miserable before you've even looked at it?"

Neither of them said anything. Hermione looked to Ron, but he was looking elsewhere. He was slumped in the armchair, the letter untouched on his lap, refusing to meet the eye of anyone.

"Guys, seriously, this is really weird," Ginny continued. "Neither of you are normally so… quiet. What's going on?"

It was Hermione who spoke first. She took the letter from Ron's lap and passed it to Harry. He unfolded it, a frown on his brow.

"What –?" He stopped as he saw the words, and Ginny leaned across him to always catch a glimpse. Both of their mouths formed the perfect 'o'.

"What is this?" Ginny asked, snatching the letter from her husband's hand, and holding it up to Hermione's face. She actually hadn't bothered looking at it before now, but now that she had, she saw that this one wasn't a note at all. It was a picture of Ron, and had been enchanted to look as if he was dead – killed.

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing," she said quietly. She was kneeling on the floor by the coffee table now, her eyes brimming with tears. She turned her head slightly to the right to where Ron was sitting, but he hadn't moved.

"It doesn't look like nothing," Harry said. "Do you know who sent it?"

"We have an idea." Hermione's voice was still a whisper, and she reached out for Ron's hand.

There was silence, and then, "This isn't the first one, is it?" Ginny asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Since the end of last year," she told them. "But this past month, it's been every week."

"Who?" Harry wanted to know.

"If I tell you, you'll kill them," Ron said, finally joining in on the conversation.

"I'll certainly find out who the hell is doing it," Harry said.

"No need, it's Begonia Webb."

"Who?" Ginny asked.

But Harry didn't answer. He was staring between them in shock, then back down at the letter. "Are you sure?" he asked.

They nodded.

"Who is Begonia Webb?" Ginny wanted to know.

"She's the mother of the boy that was… killed on that mission in Wales," Harry explained. "Mate, I had no idea…."

"Didn't tell you," Ron said miserably.

"This explains a lot," Ginny then said. "Why the two of you have been looking miserable for the last few weeks, why it feels really uncomfortable to be around you, and why I've been seriously worried the two of you are going to get a divorce or something."

Ginny's bluntness shocked them all into silence again. Harry kept looking over the note.

"It's been hard," Hermione confessed. "Very hard."

"I bet," Ginny replied. She looked back at the photograph, cringing at the sight of her brother's dead body. "But you guys should have said something… we could have done something."

"Like what?" Ron demanded. "Let the whole world know that I killed some two-year-old boy when on a mission? Can you imagine the likes of Rita Skeeter if that ever came out? She'd have a field day! Anyway, Rosie and Hugo don't even know yet."

"But, mate… if she's sending you threats like this… Kingsley should know about it! He can put a stop to it!"

"That's the worst one," Hermione explained. "The others have just been notes."

"It makes no difference." Harry got to his feet and began pacing across their living room, the photograph still in his hand. He seemed more angry than upset; but then again, it hadn't been Harry's wand. "She can't do this."

"Please don't say anything," Ron said. No one had ever heard him so pleading before. He looked absolutely depressed over the whole situation, and it was obvious he didn't want anyone making a big deal over it.

Hermione, who had completely supported Ron's decision about not mentioning it, appeared to be having second thoughts now. "Ron…" she began. "Maybe… maybe we should do something about it."

Ron glared at her. "You're siding with them now?" he snapped.

"Ron, it isn't about sides." She couldn't hide the sigh that escaped her lips. "It's about you, and us, and our children. She can't keep sending things like this, Ron, and getting away with it. If we report it, the Ministry can find her and put a stop to it."

"No."

"Mate, you're absolutely miserable. You can't hide that fact," Harry said.

Ron shook his head. "It's my business, it's not yours," he said.

Harry nodded. "Okay, it's not my business," he said. "I get that, but it's Hermione's, and she also thinks you should do something. It affects her too. And Rose and Hugo. They'll find out eventually, mate, and they're better off hearing it from you than reading it in the paper."

Ron looked to Hermione, who was still kneeling on the floor. His eyes softened slightly when he saw her face, but he was stubborn.

"I'll report it when I'm ready," he mumbled.

Ginny opened her mouth to argue with him, but Hermione shook her head warningly.

"It's best if we just leave it for now," she said softly. She then got to her feet, the smile returning to her face. "So, who's ready for dinner?"

They all went into the kitchen where Hermione had already set out the table. All she had to do was retrieve the food from the oven.

The topic of the letter wasn't discussed between them for the rest of the night; not until Harry and Ginny left.

The moment they were gone, Hermione brought it up again. "Ron, please listen to us," she begged. "I hate seeing you like this. It's not like you. If you get it out in the open, it can be dealt with."

"I don't want people thinking I'm a murderer," Ron snapped.

"The people who matter are not going to think that," Hermione said. "I don't think that, Harry and Ginny don't, and no one else who knows you does either. If you'd bothered to tell them, Rose and Hugo wouldn't either. We love you, Ron, and we know what happened was an accident."

Ron didn't say anything.

"Are you going to come to bed?"

Again, Ron didn't answer her, and it seemed that his mood had set in for the night. Hermione sighed.

"Fine," she said, "If you're not going to listen to anyone, then we're not going to bother trying and help you. We're only doing it because we love you, Ron – _I_ love you – and hate seeing you like this. But, I've tried, and you're refusing to listen, so I'm not going to bother anymore." Leaving Ron standing in the middle of the living room, she marched up the stairs without another word.

Their bedroom door slammed shut, making Ron realise that he wasn't welcome in there for the night.

Shaking his head, he also made his way up the stairs, settling into Hugo's bed. He'd sort things out with Hermione in the morning, but for now, they both just needed a goodnight's sleep.

* * *

 _ **Thank you to Sunny Lighter again for beta-ing. Much appreciated :D**_

 _ **If you'd like to join a competition for writing (set in a Quidditch format) follow the link on my profile to one of the forums on here :) If you'd like me to write you a story this year, send me a PM following the format on my profile :)**_


	7. April 17, 2021

**April 17, 2021**

"I can't believe that Hugo has almost finished his first year." Hermione sighed, finishing packing the clothes for their overnight stay in the Leaky Cauldron again. "And, he's twelve in a month as well. I remember when _I_ was twelve."

"Yeah, we were gallivanting down the Chamber of Secrets at the age. Merlin, I hope that's not what Hugo is doing right now."

"I doubt it," Hermione replied.

" _I'll_ give him detention if he is."

"But, Ron, isn't it strange that our children are… this old already? I mean… where did the time go? Mum and Dad would always say that it goes really quickly, but I never imagined… it's so strange."

Ron shrugged, obviously not as worried as Hermione was at this prospect. With a wave of his wand, his own bag closed, and he smiled.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Just about. I've just got a few more things from the bathroom." And she hurried away, just as a voice from downstairs yelled out.

"Ron? Hermione? You here?"

It was Harry, and Ron guessed he wasn't here for a social visit. If that were the case, he probably would have had the decency to knock.

"Yeah, I'm here," he mumbled, leaving the bedroom, and going to downstairs to where Harry was standing anxiously in the living room. "What's the bad news?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "It's not bad news," he said. "Well, not really. It's about Begonia Webb."

Ron resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Ever since they'd made the mistake of telling Harry, he'd become obsessed by it. Every day he'd ask if they'd received another letter, or heard from her again. He kept pushing Ron to say something, but it just made Ron even more determined not to.

He never should have said anything. He should have just let it go, and pretended it was a letter from one of his children. That way, he wouldn't have people hassling him over it.

Even Hermione had sided with Harry, insisting he do something, and they'd gotten into many arguments over it, to the point they just stopped talking about it all together.

He didn't want anyone else dragged into it, especially not his family.

"I know that look," Harry said, "But… Ron…."

"I haven't gotten any other letters from her since that night," Ron informed him. "So, I think she's had her fun, and she's probably just grieving now."

Harry shook his head. "Mate…."

"What?"

"She's been put under Ministry watch."

Ron had a hard time containing his anger at this point. By being put under Ministry watch meant that Harry had informed other people over what was happening, and he didn't want that. His children went to school with their children, and if they knew, then there was no doubt Rose and Hugo would find out too.

He didn't want that. He didn't want them looking at him in a way that showed they thought he was capable of killing someone. Hermione said they wouldn't, but they were just kids, and they would believe what they heard.

He didn't want that at all.

"You told them," he said as calmly as he could. "Even when I asked you not to?"

"Mate….

"No! This was my business, not yours, and you had no right!"

Harry took a step back.

"It affects all of us, Ron."

"No, it doesn't. It has nothing to do with you. She doesn't give a Hippogriff's arse whether you were there or not. As far as she's concerned, you were there trying to protect them. But, no, I killed her son, meaning I'm the murderer. I didn't want to tell you, but I did anyway. I thought you'd understand."

"I do understand," Harry said calmly, "Which is why I've put her under the watch."

"If you'd understand, you'd know why I didn't want them to know!" Ron snapped.

"Who to know?" Harry questioned.

"Everyone. The Ministry, the media… my _kids!_ They have no idea, Harry. No idea at all, and what's going to happen when another kid comes up to them when my name and face is all over the paper, labelling me as a murderer?"

"That's not going to happen. Only a few people know."

"A few too many! Harry, what's happened doesn't affect them. It affects me, it affects Hermione, and now it probably affects Rose and Hugo too."

"It's also affecting you and Hermione," Harry said.

"That is none of your business," Ron replied angrily. "What happens between us doesn't concern you."

"You're my best friends – you're family – it does when I see how unhappy the two of you are right now."

"Not with each other," Ron said. "With the whole situation."

"Which is why it needs to be dealt with. I don't want to see my two best friends' marriage fall apart over something like this."

"It's not going to fall apart," Ron said stubbornly.

"Then tell me why Hermione has ended up on my doorstep more than once in the past week, in tears?"

Ron didn't say anything. He just stood there, fuming at his brother-in-law. For Harry to meddle in their professional lives was bad enough, but for him to now interfere in their personal one as well was not on. Yes, he and Hermione had been having problems for a while now, but none of it concerned Harry.

They were happy in this moment, and he didn't want him bringing it up again.

"You guys aren't the same," Harry continued, more calmly now.

At that moment, Hermione came down the stairs, and it didn't appear she'd heard what they'd said, but it looked as if she knew they were arguing.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"Nothing," they both mumbled at the same time, avoiding meeting her eye.

"You were both never good liars," she stated. "But I'm not going to bother asking, because I know you won't tell me." She made for the front door.

"Webb's under Ministry watch," Harry stated.

Ron would have hexed him had his wand not been in his bag upstairs.

"That's great!" Hermione's look of contentment brightened slightly at Harry's words, and she glanced to Ron. His expression caused her smile to falter. "Well, _I_ think it's great," she said. "So, it means you've found her?"

"We've located her whereabouts," Harry informed her with a nod. "However, we don't have enough proof to arrest her for anything, so we're simply watching her movements – which she knows about, of course."

"It's better than nothing, I suppose," Hermione said. She looked to Ron again, shaking her head at his glowering expression. "Anyway, we should be going. We need to pick leave to pick the kids up."

Harry nodded, taking that as his cue to leave. "I still don't know why you guys don't just Floo to the Leaky Cauldron and then back again in one day. And, I'll offer again – you don't want to stay with us for the night?"

Hermione shook her head. "I doubt we'd be very good company at moment," she said. "And, the drive might lighten the mood a little."

"I'll just get my stuff," Ron said, and made for the stairs.

Once he was gone, Hermione turned back to Harry. "Thank you," she said. "He mightn't appreciate it now, but one day he will."

"I just wanted to help," Harry explained, his gaze drifting to where Ron had just disappeared. "I don't want to cause any problems."

Hermione shook her head. "You haven't," she assured him. "This whole thing has really got to him, though, and I don't know what to do. He doesn't want any help, because he blames himself for what happened. I think he thinks he deserves whatever happens to him – I don't think he believes that his punishment was great enough."

"He didn't have a punishment," Harry said, confused.

Hermione nodded. "I think that's the problem. Those letters… they really shook him up, but he won't admit it."

I just hate seeing you guys like this," Harry said.

Hermione smiled sadly. "I hate being like this. All we do is fight now… and we're picking the kids up soon. They're going to notice. I just wish he'd listen, but he won't."

Ron returned again, carrying his bag with his wand in it. "Ready to go?" he asked.

Hermione nodded, and Harry went to the fireplace so he could Floo home. "I'll see you at King's Cross tomorrow," he said. "Drive safely." He stepped into the grate, shouted _Grimmauld Place_ and disappeared.

Without saying a word to Hermione, Ron went to the car, chucked his bag into the back seat, and then got into the driver's side.

Hermione did the same silently, unsure on how to approach him. They were twenty minutes into their trip before she decided. "Ron, can we talk about this please?"

"Talk about what?" Ron demanded.

"Everything. This whole situation. We're picking Rosie and Hugo up tomorrow, and they're not stupid. They're going to know something's up. I'll respect your decision to not tell them – even if I disagree – but I don't want them to see us not talking to each other. It's upset Harry, and if it's upset him, then imagine what it'd do to them."

For a long time, Ron didn't say anything. He kept his eyes firmly on the road, and Hermione thought he was going to ignore her; but then he let out a long, frustrated sigh and nodded. "Yeah, okay," he said. "I don't like us fighting."

"Neither do I."

"I just don't think it's any of Harry's business."

"He's just trying to help," Hermione said. "That's all. He didn't intend for you to get upset about it. He just hates seeing you so down on yourself; and so do I."

"Do you think I deserve what she's doing?" His question was so blunt that it took Hermione a few moments to respond, which Ron misinterpreted for hesitation.

"No, I don't," she said.

"You do… I don't blame you… or her. I killed her son, after all."

"She has no right to send those letters, Ron. The Ministry should put a stop to it, and now that Kingsley knows, they probably will." She noticed Ron still didn't believe her. "Ron, this isn't you fault."

"You keep saying that."

"And yet you still don't believe me."

"Let's just not talk about this while the kids are home, okay," Ron said. "And let's at least try and be civil towards one another."

"We shouldn't have to try, Ron," Hermione said quietly. "We just _should_."

"Would it make you feel better if I went to the Ministry and told them everything that has happened so far?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

"Okay, then, I will. The moment we get back, I'll talk to them. If it's affecting you and Harry and everyone else that badly, then I'll do it."

"I just want us to stop fighting, Ron. I hate it. I really do."

Again, Ron was silent, but this time it was as if he was thinking. He turned his head slightly to the left to catch her eye. "You know, when was the last time we went on a holiday?"

"We went to France last summer."

"No, I mean, just us. Remember our honeymoon, before kids, before everything? I think we need another holiday like that."

"But, Ron… work."

"Leave it to me. I'll sort it all out. It mightn't be for some time, but it'll be before next summer so we won't have to take the kids with us. I think we need to get away, Hermione, and just be together for a while without any problems, any letters, and kids."

Hermione smiled slightly. "I like the sound of that," she said. "I just don't want us to keep fighting like this over little things."

"Neither do I. It'll be good for us, you'll see. And don't bother planning a thing. Consider it a late anniversary present to you."

Hermione beamed. "As long as it's somewhere nice," she said.

"It will be," Ron promised her. "And, I'll even do that whole romantic thing that I haven't had that much luck with before."

Hermione laughed. "You don't have to," she said. "Romantic isn't really our thing."

"Well it should be. It's not your fault I'm lousy at all that kind of thing."

"You're not," Hermione assured him. "I think I like you better when you're just yourself."

"Like?" Ron quirked an eyebrow.

"Yes. Love doesn't come into it, Ron. You know that."

"No, I don't." For a moment, worry appeared on his features.

"Ron, I love you no matter what. That won't change due to your ability to make situations romantic or not. If that were the case, do you think I would have married you after your proposal?"

Ron grinned sheepishly. "Good point," he said. "Fine, I'll make it romantic… our style."

"That sounds perfect, Ron." And she leaned across the car to peck his cheek.


	8. May 31, 2021

**May 31, 2012**

"Guys, we want to hear all the details when you get back, okay?" Ginny said, giving her friend and brother a hug.

"No you don't, Gin," Ron answered with a smirk.

Ginny ignored him, turning to Hermione instead. "Oh, I'm so excited for you! You hardly ever get to go away like this."

"It's only for the weekend," Hermione reminded her. "Two nights… I wish it was longer."

"Well, two nights is better than none, right?" Ginny hugged Hermione again. "I'd love to go to Ireland again."

"Well, we'll tell you all about it when we get back," Hermione promised her. "Though…." She looked to Ron, wanting to say something else, but thought better of it. "Well, we'll see you on Monday."

Ginny smiled at both of them as Ron put his arm across Hermione's shoulders.

"Don't forget to send our bags over in a few minutes," was the last thing he said to her, before the Apparated from their house together, appearing moments later in a small Irish village.

"Is this the place?" Hermione asked, looking around.

Ron nodded, smiling at her. "Nice and small and quiet and secluded," he said. "Just the two of us…." He directed her towards an old building with a sign hanging above. It read _Leenaun B &B_.

"Here?" Hermione asked, studying the old building.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, one of the blokes in the Education department – Michael Malone 's – sister runs it," he told her. "Says she'd be happy to have us for the weekend." His smile faltered a little, seeing her expression. "We can go somewhere else if you want, though…."

Hermione shook her head. "It's perfect, Ron," she assured him. "It's beautiful."

He smiled. "Shall we go in, then?"

They entered the small room, being greeted instantly by a middle-aged woman. She smiled brightly at them.

" _Dia duit_ ," she said kindly.

Ron frowned. "Er… hello," he said. "I… I work with your brother at the Ministry of Magic. We're meant to be here for the weekend."

The woman's eyes widened slightly, and then ushered them in. "Of course," she said. "I've been preparing all day for you… he said I should recognise you, but, you see, I'm not magic, so I don't really know anyone from there." She spoke so fast, obviously embarrassed by her lack of recognition.

"It's okay," Hermione assured her. "It's a lovely place, by the way."

The woman smiled. "Thank you." She rummaged through a draw, pulling out a key. She handed it to Ron. "Well, the room's just out the back, I can show you there if you'd like. It's quite small, but I hope it's enough."

They followed her through a narrow hall and out another door. There was a small flat sitting on a mound of grass. The outside didn't look too spectacular, but when opening the door, it had obviously been renovated on the inside.

Hermione smiled. "It's lovely," she said.

The woman looked flattered. "Thank you." She gave them a brief tour of the room, and then said that if there was anything they needed, to just ask. She pointed to a telephone by the bed, and then disappeared.

"Obviously doesn't get many visitors," Ron commented humorously. He went to the side of the bed the telephone was on, and picked it up, frowning. "Not one of these bloody things," he complained.

"Ron, you're more than capable of using one," Hermione reminded him. "You've done it plenty of times before."

"Doesn't mean I like it," Ron grumbled, putting it back down, and turning to his wife. "So… we've got this place to ourselves for two whole days… what should we do?" His intentions were obvious, but Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Ron, we're here for two days. We can spend our time doing other things as well, you know. Like going for a walk; seeing the village."

Ron only grinned mischievously at her, pulling her onto his lap. He kissed her. "It's been a long time since it's just been the two of us," he told her.

Hermione smiled. "I don't know where you've been these past months, but I didn't see anyone else in our house while the kids are at school."

"You know what I mean," Ron replied.

"I don't, Ron. What do you mean?"

Ron kissed her again. "I mean, it's been a while since we were together, and I saw you smile. It's been months since we've acted like anything but two strangers who share a house, and a bed, and a life."

Hermione put her hands around his neck, looking him in the eye. "Well," she said, "We have the whole weekend to make up for any lost moments." She drew her lips closer to his, not quite touching.

"And you wanted to go for a walk," Ron mumbled.

"Ron…."

"I'm kidding, Hermione. We can go for a walk if you want. It's not too big a place."

Hermione climbed off his lap, her cheeks slightly flushed. "Then maybe we can go out and eat somewhere," she suggested.

"Here?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "Hermione, this place doesn't even reach two-thousand in population. Anyway, I have something planned for us tonight," he added with a grin.

"You? Cook?" Hermione said. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Ron pointed to the tiny, one-bench kitchen. "Well, if you think you'd do a better job, be my guest," he said. "Except you won't know the little touch of magic that I add to it."

"Ron, with you, I think you really mean magic," Hermione said, allowing him to take her hand as the exited the little flat. They did their best to avoid the woman who owned the flat (who they didn't even know the name of) but she caught up to them just as they were leaving the property.

"How is everything?" she wanted to know. "Everything's okay?"

"Everything is perfect," Hermione said, smiling. "Thank you very much."

"Oh, well, that's great; again if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"We will," Hermione assured her, and still looking rather flushed by her guests, she hurried away to attend to something else.

Ron laughed. "She's as nutty as her brother," he said.

"Ron! She's lovely. I think you're right, though. I don't think she gets many visitors."

"Probably scared them all off," Ron mumbled.

"Ron, do you have to be so rude to people all the time?" Hermione questioned.

"Sorry," Ron said. "Let's not fight, okay?" He squeezed her hand as they kept walking.

It really was a small village, with not much to do or see. It was perfect for what the two of them wanted , though – seclusion and privacy. Predominantly a Muggle settlement, no one here would recognise them as Ron and Hermione Weasley. Yes, they'd probably have attention drawn to them, but that was only because they were visitors.

It suited them just fine.

"Ron, did I thank you for organising all of this?" Hermione said suddenly, just as they reached a T-section in the road. They chose to go right, thinking it wouldn't be too hard to find their way back again. "It's beautiful."

"I think you thanked me all of last week," Ron teased. "And the one before that, too. Ever since I told you."

"I guess I just didn't realise how much everything was stressing me out. With work, with the kids… with you."

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm sorry I've been pushing all of you away ever since it happened. I didn't mean to, I just…."

"You just felt you didn't deserve the sympathy?" Hermione finished.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I guess that was it." He put his arm across Hermione's shoulders. "Kind of still do, I suppose. I feel like I should be in Azkaban, not holidaying with you."

"Well," Hermione said, "While you're here, I think we should make the most of it, because it'll probably be another sixteen years before we get to do this again."

"In that many years, we'll be old and crippled," Ron said with a smile.

"Don't be so dramatic," Hermione replied. "We've still got many years left."

"And I hope that every single one of them is with you."

Hermione smiled. "If you weren't making fun of me right now, that'd be really sweet, Ron."

"But I was being serious," Ron protested. He placed a kiss to her temple. "I'm not sure I could live without you."

OOO

Ron placed the plate of steaming food in front of Hermione as she watched with gleaming eyes and a huge smile on her face.

"Oh, Ron, this looks wonderful!" she exclaimed.

"Let's hope it tastes good, too," Ron answered, sitting at the small table opposite her. "Maureen offered us a meal, but I told her I had something else planned. So, if you don't like it, I'm sure that offer would still be up."

"I'm sure it will taste fine," Hermione said. "After all, your mother is Molly Weasley." She took her first bite, and nodded. "See, fine."

Looking relieved now, Ron also tried his own cooking, and although he tried to hide it, looked quite impressed with himself.

"Hey, I'm not too bad," he said after a while.

Hermione shook her head, smiling. "You act as if you've never cooked before," she said.

"Well… Mum gave me this recipe. I asked if she knew of anything… fancy… and she gave me this. Said it involved magic and that."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I knew you used magic," she said.

"I never tried to hide it," Ron told her. "But it took a bloody large amount of magic for a lousy meal, that's for sure."

"Well… it is me," Hermione teased.

Ron nodded solemnly. "You're right," he said, "I shouldn't complain. This time last week, I didn't even know if you'd want to come anymore… well, not with me, anyway."

"Who else would I want to come with?" Hermione said. "Jones is on leave, and –"

Ron scowled at the mention of the bloke's name.

"I was joking, Ron. I wouldn't go near him."

"He'd sure like to go near you, though," Ron replied sourly. He waved his wand and the dishes were sent to the sink.

Hermione sighed. "We going to talk about him right now?" she asked.

"No… no, I don't want to talk about the bloke who has a thing for my wife," Ron said, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You really can be a drama queen sometimes, can't you Ron?"

Ron did not appreciate that term at all, and got up from the table to where the dishes were still siting, unwashed. "I'll just clean these," he mumbled, pointing his wand to the sink to fill it with water.

"Ron…."

"And then I think I might have a shower and go to bed. What about you?"

Hermione looked at him in a way that looked like she'd start crying at any moment. "Ron, I didn't mean it… you cooked, I can clean." She moved to the sink too, but Ron shook his head. "Ron…."

"I can do it," he said moodily. "Why don't you go and… read a book or something?"

Hermione snatched the plate from his hand and put it aside. Ron turned to look at her.

"We didn't come here to clean, nor did we come here to argue," she said. "That is exactly what we came here to get away from. We had such a good afternoon, and I don't want that to be ruined, okay. I'm sorry if I offended you, Ron, I didn't mean to. It was a joke – why can't we laugh anymore?"

Ron didn't say anything straight away, refusing to meet her eye. For a moment, his expression reminded Hermione a lot like Rose's when she'd done something wrong.

"Ron, what is it?"

"Nothing."

"Ron, for Heaven's sake, talk to me!"

Ron still didn't say anything, so she turned away. "Fine, then," she said. "You can finish doing that, and I'll go and have a shower. I expect you'll be in bed by the time I get out." Even though she wasn't facing him, she felt Ron hesitate – maybe to call her back – but he didn't, and she kept walking.

As she turned to shower on, allowing the warm water to fall over her body, tears fell. Over the months, she'd managed to keep it together. Despite everything they'd been through, she'd stayed strong, but sometimes – even to the best of people – things got too much. She hadn't wanted to fight with him; it was the one thing she wished they didn't do, but perhaps they were too far damaged for a weekend away to fix.

Perhaps, maybe, it was too late.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed in the shower, but she didn't want Ron to know she'd been crying. It would only make him feel guilty, and make him apologise, and she didn't want that. Neither of them should be apologising. It shouldn't be like that.

When her tears had ceased, and the redness in her eyes had disappeared, she finally climbed out, wrapping a towel around her body, and heading back to the other room.

She'd half expected to actually find Ron in bed, but instead, he was sitting on the edge, his head in his hands until he saw her.

The look he gave her was one of despair, and she knew that he was feeling what she was feeling.

What should have been a simple mission had somehow managed to tear them apart, and neither of them knew how to fix it.

They had tried, but the truth was, staying in a small village somewhere in Ireland wasn't the answer.

She came over to sit beside him, but didn't say anything. She hoped that maybe he would talk first, but after they'd been sitting there for five minutes, she realised he didn't know what to say to her.

They'd never been like this before. Not even in their days at Hogwarts where they'd been dancing around one another and their feelings. They'd always had something to say.

What was happening to them?

"I still love you, you know. That will never change." She put a hand on his back, rubbing it gently. "I love you so much, and that's what hurts the most. I just want to be able to do something – to be able to help you – but I don't know how."

"Maybe you can look it up in a book," Ron said with half a smile.

Hermione smiled too. "Sometimes, they don't have the answers," she said.

"Maybe if they did, it'd be a lot easier," Ron replied. He looked at her, his eyes burning with a passion Hermione had never seen before. In some cases, he let his emotions known too easily, where other times – his more personal feelings – he kept them locked up somewhere even she couldn't crack. "I hate us being like this," he said. "I… I never thought this would be us."

"Neither did I, Ron, but we can get through it. I know we can. You just have to let me help you… we're in this together."

"I really thought that being here would make us forget…."

"Ron, two days isn't going to solve everything. It never was. I hate that what happened earlier, did; I didn't want that, and I know you didn't either, but you have to remember that I married _you_ , Ron. I _want_ to be with you, and I hate the fact that sometimes you think you're not good enough for me, or that the minute someone else comes along, I'll leave you for them, or whatever else you seem to feel. If you could spend just a few moments feeling what I feel, you wouldn't think that anymore."

"I love you, Hermione."

"And I love you, Ron. So much. So much more than you seem to think I do. I know what happened was tragic. I know how hurt, how upset, how guilty you feel over it. If I were in your position, I probably would too. What I can't understand is the way you're beating yourself up over it. No one blames you for what happened, but you. Everyone knows you would never do something like that on purpose. Everyone knows it was an accident, and you need to forgive yourself."

She saw Ron swallow, and then look at her. "Would you ever forgive me if it was Rose or Hugo who'd been there instead?"

"That would never happen. You'd die protecting them, Ron."

"But I didn't know that kid was there, did I? I didn't know I had killed him. It could have happened to anyone, and that's the hardest part. Every time I think about it, I see Rosie's face, or Hugo's. I see them lying there instead of that boy. I think what if it'd been them instead? Can you blame the mother for what she's doing? Can you blame her for wanting the person who killed her child to be punished? If it were me, I'd want the same thing."

"But you wouldn't send anonymous death threats to them," Hermione said. "And that's why Harry did what he did. Having your life threatened like that, it's scary. It's terrifying for you, for me, and believe it or not, Harry too. She can't keep doing this, Ron. You need to let the Ministry deal with it."

"I just never thought…."

"No one would. Of course not, and that's why we can't keep it a secret anymore. People need to become involved now, okay?"

Ron looked at her, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry for pushing you away. I really am. I just didn't understand how… how you could stick by me."

"I always will, Ron. No matter what. That's one thing that makes a marriage, isn't it? Loyalty."

"Unless, of course, I really do go and kill a kid, right?"

"Well, then you and I would have some serious issues; but until that happens, then I have no reason to ever want to leave you."

"So, am I forgiven?"

"That depends… are you really planning on going to bed now?"

"Not without you," Ron said, playfully tugging on the towel that was still wrapped around her.

Hermione smiled, but pushed his hand away. She jumped off the bed. "This is not how I imagined tonight to go," she said.

"Neither did I," Ron confessed. "We weren't supposed to fight at all. We were supposed to eat and then –" He was silenced by Hermione's lips on his.

"Give me a few moments," she said softly. "I'm just going to change."

"Change? Hermione, it will be a lot easier to take a towel off you than – oh."

If Hermione's expression was anything to go by, Ron suspected that what Hermione had in mind wasn't going to be pink, fluffy pyjamas.

"I'll wait here," he said, and Hermione disappeared back into the bathroom.

* * *

 _ **Thank you to Sunny Lighter for beta-ing!  
**_

 _ **We have a Quidditch League writing comp going here forum/The-Quidditch-League-Fanfiction-Competition/134505/ . We literally have one spot for Puddlemere United left. After that the season can begin! If you'd like to join, please do!**_


	9. June 1, 2021

_**This chapter has WARNINGS for a sex scene and sexual content**_

* * *

 **June 1, 2021**

A tiny bit of sunlight poked through the closed blinds, and Hermione blinked. It took her a moment to remember that she wasn't in her own bed, and last night had been one of the best she and Ron had had in a long time.

The smile on her lips hadn't left her all night, even as she slept, she realised. It had been a very long time since they'd been that close, and even longer since it had been that passionate. Her body ached all over, but it ached in a good way.

She missed that feeling.

Beside her, Ron rolled over, and even in the small amount of light she saw nail marks in his back that was her fault. She cringed, running her hand over the dry blood.

His eyes flew open.

"I'm sorry, Ron," she said quietly.

"Sorry for what?" Ron questioned groggily, yawning in the process.

"This." She traced the marks with her fingers.

Ron only chuckled. "Merlin, Hermione, it's been a good ten years since that's happened. It never used to worry you, so why should it now? Just because we're ten years older, doesn't mean it should be any less enjoyable." He moved closer to her to kiss her forehead. "I miss moments like these," he whispered.

Hermione smiled, snuggling into his arms. It was so warm where they were, so comforting and so safe. Even when they had been happy, having children and a job and a life had prevented them from alone time like this. Time where they could just lie in bed for as long as they wanted, their bodies pressed against one another, and tangled in the sheets.

Ron was probably being generous when he said ten years. It was probably longer.

"Ron, it's been months since we've… we've done anything at all," she said. "The last time was –"

"The day before Kingsley told us," Ron finished. Because that had been the last time they'd been truly happy.

"I'm sorry."

Ron shook his head, pulling her closer to him. "Don't be sorry," he said. "None of this is your fault. I was just being an idiot. I didn't want to spend time with you because I didn't want you to… love me, I guess." He kissed her lips tenderly. "Do you love me now, though?"

Hermione nodded. "So much," she whispered. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her heart rate quickening in just a few seconds. "We have almost a year to catch up on in one day," she breathed, her lips finding his. "So, we better get started."

Ron kissed her back breathlessly, his hands running along her unclothed body. It trailed all the way down, only stopping in places he knew she liked. A moan escaped her lips which were still pressed to his, and she felt around for him underneath the covers, wanting him closer.

Their breathing was heavy – almost a repeat of what had occurred the night before – and Ron rolled over so he was now on top of her, pressing kisses down her neck.

Up until last night, it had been so long. Why hadn't they? Hermione found herself wondering as every place Ron put his hands sent shivers all over. It wasn't that they didn't want to, it was more the fact they were too angry at each other most of the time. Most nights, they went to bed without saying a word to each other.

Anything else was always out of the question.

But now – even if it was only for a day – the only emotion inside of them was love. It soaked through their skin as they made up for lost time in one night and one morning. This was what it used to be like, back when they were happy.

Her fingers laced through his hair as she felt his lips now against her breasts. She moaned again – this time louder and longer. "Ron," she breathed, trying to pull his head back to where hers was. "Ron…."

He watched her questioningly, obviously thinking he'd done something wrong. Little did he know, the only problem was he had done everything exactly right. Her body ached for him; they had so much time to make up for.

"Just do it," she said breathlessly, bringing his lips to her own again. He didn't need it spelt out for him what she wanted. They both moaned simultaneously as the connection was made, and he began making slow, gentle thrusts against her.

Her hands snaked to his back, reopening the nail wounds she had left the night before. There was a pounding in her chest and it felt as if her heart was going to explode.

It wasn't often that she swore, but as he quickened his pace, she found herself saying words she would have grounded her children for using.

The faster he got, the louder they both became. They were both moaning with every movement now, and then his eyes filled with lustful desire – the look that meant he wasn't going to last much longer.

The tension inside her own body was building quickly, it felt she was one fire. There hadn't been so much passion between them in years. Being here – being alone – had changed that, and she felt herself almost ready to burst.

Each thrust took him deeper into her, and the moment she felt his release inside of her, it was enough to send her over the edge as well. She arched her back with pleasure, bringing herself as close as she could to her husband, and at the same time, they both made one final cry of _yes_ as they reached their peak.

Ron kept going for another thirty seconds or so before pulling away to lay beside her. His arms wrapped instantly around her waist, and she snuggled into him, both of them panting from the exertion.

"Four times last night," Hermione gasped, "And one more time this morning already."

"Already? God, no pressure," Ron mumbled into her hair. "Well, I'll say that's about a week we've caught up on…." His fingers traced patterns on her chest.

"Something tells me we won't be leaving this bed much today," Hermione teased. "That was like we were twenty again."

"Mhm," Ron hummed. "Who said old people can't have sex?"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at that, and she kissed his lips. "We're not that old," she said. "Not really."

He kissed her back, and the two of them were so caught up in the moment they almost forgot that breakfast would probably be delivered to their room.

"Ignore it," Ron said.

And they tried, but whoever it was, was persistent and they kept knocking.

"Breakfast!" came the call from outside.

They pulled away from each other, and Hermione sat up, finding the nearest piece of clothing that she could. "I'll get it," she said.

Wrapped in nothing but a sheet from the bed, Hermione opened the door just a fraction to see who it was. It was [insert name I can't remember] standing before them with a tray. She flushed to the point of almost glowing when she saw Hermione, and shoved the tray into her hands.

"I hope you enjoy," she said, and hurried away.

"Well, that was embarrassing," Hermione said, bringing the tray back over to the bed. "She now knows we were…."

"Oh, like she didn't guess anyway," Ron said. "What do couples do when they're away from everyone else? Play cards?"

"Some might," Hermione responded with a teasing smile.

"Well, if you ever suggested we do that…."

"Oh, Ron, stop sulking, and let's enjoy this." Hermione opened a lid of a hotplate. "Smells good," she said, admiring the bacon, eggs and sausages that had been cooked for them. "She's so lovely."

"Do you think she's a virgin?" Ron said.

"RON!"

"What?"

"That's none of our business either way. Look, just eat this," Hermione said, shoving a plate into his hand. "It'll shut you up for some time at least."

They ate on the bed, neither moving. It really was a nice breakfast, and filling too. When they'd finished, Ron sent the tray over to the sink, and laid back down in the bed, his hands behind his head.

"When have we ever done this?" he said. "Well, when was the last time?"

"I think it really was our honeymoon," Hermione answered, lying down beside him. "Every other time we've gone away, we've had the kids."

"Should we tell them about this?" Ron then wondered. "That we went away without them?"

"And tell them what? We went away to a quiet place where no one could disturb us while we stayed in bed all day and did things I'm sure they wouldn't like to think about? That'd go down well, Ron. They'd be delighted to hear the details."

"Well, I didn't mean that… I just meant… they're not stupid. Last time they were back, they knew something was up. We weren't really talking to each other."

"Yeah, I know," Hermione sighed. "I feel awful for them, but… if we're not going to tell them, what can we do?"

"I just can't scare them like that, Hermione. I mean, when we were their age, we were fighting bloody Voldemort. Our lives is everything I don't want them to have, and knowing there's someone out there who's after their family… they don't need that."

Hermione sighed. They'd lasted a whole day without talking about it. It was better than most, she supposed.

"No, they don't," she agreed.

"They come home soon," Ron then said. "Rosie into fourth year. I hope she's not facing any dragons like Harry did then."

Hermione moved closer to Ron, resting her head on his chest. "She won't be, Ron. Even if there were a Triwizard's Tournament, she's too young to enter. Though, I think she's at the age where boys might become interesting to her."

Ron grunted, but didn't say anything. Her certainly didn't like that aspect at all, and was definitely not looking forward to his daughter having a boyfriend. "Rumour has it her Draco's kid are pretty friendly," he eventually said, absently running his fingers through Hermione's hair. "Do you think that'll be the one she's interested in?"

"I'd say there is a very high chance," Hermione replied. "And you're not going to do anything to stop it if it happens, are you?" It wasn't really a question, more of a warning to not get in the way of Rose's relationships.

"No, I won't. I promise," Ron said, although not at all pleased about it. "But, she could date the great grandson of Albus Dumbledore and I still wouldn't want her to. It has nothing to do with the fact that her affections lie with a Malfoy."

Hermione knew there was half truth to that, but also knew that Malfoy irritated Ron still. From what they'd heard, Scorpius Malfoy was a nice enough boy, and for some reason, their children had forgotten all about any feuds between ancestors.

Hermione thought it was good they didn't hold the prejudices. Ron was still trying to get used to it.

"I hate that they're growing up, Hermione," Ron then said. "I miss them when they were four, five years old. Back then, they needed us more."

"Okay," Hermione began, lifting herself onto her elbow. "Right now, they don't need us. They're happy at Hogwarts, probably enjoying the last bit of term after exams. So, let's not worry about them for today. This time here is about us." She brought her mouth to his, and he responded enthusiastically.

"Just trying to make conversation," he mumbled.

"Well, you can make conversation to me," Hermione said. "And not about the kids, either."

Ron smiled, putting his arms around her body. He pulled her so she was on top of him.

It was well into the afternoon when they decided to actually get out of bed. Hermione went to have a shower, and Ron rummaged through his bag for clothes. Their bodies ached, but in a really good way.

"We should do this once every few months," Ron suggested that evening as they sat around the small table for dinner.

"If work allowed it, I'd love it," Hermione said. For, never had their sex life been that… enthusiastic.

 _Well_ , she thought, _at least not for twenty years or so_.


	10. July 15, 2021

**July 15, 2021**

"Rose, can you help your grandmother set the table please? Rose, did you hear me?"

"It'll be faster if you just use magic," Rose mumbled, not moving from her spot on the worn out couch she'd been in for the past hour. She had her wand in her hand and was waving it around so that little white sparks flew from it every few seconds.

"I'm asking you to set it," Hermione replied irritably. "Get up and go and do it. It'll only take you a few minutes."

"It'll take you a few seconds," Rose retorted.

"Rose! Listen to your mother."

"Ron…."

"No, she's been like this since she's come back and I am sick of it." Ignoring Hermione's protests, Ron marched over to where his daughter was and yanked her by the arm so she was on her feet.

"Dad!" Rose cried.

"Your mum asked you to set the table," Ron said angrily.

"And I said no," Rose retorted coldly. She looked Ron square in the eye, and he returned it, just as stubborn.

"It wasn't a question you had to respond to."

"Then she shouldn't have asked it."

By now – for those who were still inside the Burrow – everyone had gone quiet, feeling very uncomfortable with the argument they all sensed was about to erupt between father and daughter. Normally, the two of them got along really well, but they had the same temperament, and when they were both angry… all hell broke loose.

"Go and set the table, Rose. It's a simple task."

"Then you do it." Rose sat back down on the old couch, glaring at nothing.

"Rose!"

"Ron, it's okay. It's fine. I'll do it instead." Angelina picked up the plates that were resting on the bench and began laying them around the table.

Ron's face was a bright red, and Rose refused to look, or speak to anyone. It had been like this ever since they'd picked her up from King's Cross a month ago. She barely said hello to them, and the moment they got home, she locked herself in her room, only leaving it for the bathroom and meals.

Whatever had happened at Hogwarts to cause such a drastic change in her attitude, no one knew. Hugo simply shrugged when they asked him, and said she was just being annoying. Her cousins had no clue either, but they said she was fine at Hogwarts – much more like the Rose they knew and loved.

"Don't expect any lunch, then," Ron retorted moodily. "If you don't help, you don't eat."

"Good. It looks gross anyway."

And that was when Ron lost it completely. He was fuming now, pointing an angry finger to the back door where the younger children were playing outside. "Go out there!" he said.

"Ron…." Hermione joined him now, tugging on his arm, begging him to calm down.

"Outside, Rose! You do not come in here and sit around as if it's your house, and refuse to help at all, and then criticise the food your grandmother has cooked for you. Go outside, and don't come back in until you're ready to apologise. I don't care if you don't eat for a week, that is uncalled for."

Her own face red with fury, Rose jumped to her feet. A good two heads shorter than her father, she glared up at him with narrowed eyes. "I didn't even want to come today!" she spat. "You made me come. You said if I didn't then I'd be in big trouble. So I came, I made you happy, and you're still yelling at me. Obviously I can't do anything right, so why do I even bother? I might as well just go back to school."

"Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea," Ron said angrily. "You've been in nothing but a bad mood since you left."

"Ron…."

Rose's angry eyes darted around the room, taking in each member of her family. "I'm obviously not wanted here," she said. "Fine, I'll go, but don't expect me to come back when you want to go home."

And she stormed past everyone, out the back door, and disappeared somewhere they couldn't see.

Ron made to follow, but Hermione stopped him. "I'll go," she said. "You'll end up killing each other."

He didn't argue with her. He simply watched his wife follow their daughter, and then looked around at the concerned looks his mother, Angelina, and sister gave him. His expression softened somewhat.

"The teenage years, huh?" Angelina said after a few moments. "It's what George and I have to look forward to, right?"

Ron gave half a smile. "Maybe hope they haven't inherited the Weasley temper," he said.

OOO

Hermione found her daughter sitting by the edge of a pond, a fair distance away from where the others were playing. She had her knees drawn to her chest, eyes staring at nothing. When she sat down beside Rose, she noticed tear streaks down her cheeks.

"That was uncalled for, Rosie," she said gently. "Your dad had a point."

"He didn't need to yell at me for it," Rose responded bluntly.

"Neither did you."

"Is he mad?"

"Yeah, a little bit," Hermione said. "But can you blame him?"

Another tear rolled Rose's cheek, and she drew her knees closer towards her body, shivering despite it being fairly warm. Hermione knew she was feeling guilty. She always did when she got into a fight with Ron. More so than she ever did when fighting with her.

"What is it, sweetheart? Why have you been so cold towards us lately? Have we done something to upset you? Did something happen at school? You can talk to us, you know. Rather than getting angry."

There was silence for quite some time before Rose decided to speak. She let her legs fall flat against ground, and sighed. "Why do I want to come to a place I probably won't see any more?"

Hermione frowned. "Why do you think you won't see it anymore?" she asked.

Rose shrugged. "Well, you and Dad… you're always fighting now, and… and… are you going to get divorced? You can tell me. It's better that I know now, so I can prepare for it."

Her words were so decisive – so _real_ – that it took Hermione by surprise. Her mouth opened but no words formed. She knew she should have realised her children weren't oblivious to the tension. They were old enough to understand.

"Oh, sweetheart, that's not going to happen!" she said after a while. "We're perfectly happy together… and why would you think that'd affect you seeing the Burrow again?"

"Well, I'd probably live with you, wouldn't I? Meaning I wouldn't be able to see Grandma and Grandpa Weasley anymore."

Hermione shook her head, unable to find the right words to comfort her daughter. Had this been what was bothering Rose? Had she been afraid of getting too close because she thought her family was falling apart?

"Rose… I don't know what to say… you're worried that your Dad and I are going to… break up?"

Rose nodded. "I thought you hated each other," she said. "And I hated you for that."

"Rosie, we don't. We were just going through a bit of a rough patch last time you were here, but it's okay. We got through that, and everything's okay now. I promise."

"You argued yesterday," Rose said.

"That was an argument, not a fight, Rosie. And it was a silly argument. We're over it now." Hermione saw Rose swallow. "Everything's okay, Rosie. Don't worry. I love your dad and he loves me. And anyway, even if that were to happen – which it won't – that wouldn't stop you from seeing your family. Your dad and I love you very much, and so does everyone else."

Rose gave an indifferent shrug. "Oh well, it wouldn't matter anyway, I guess. Dad told me not to come back in the house."

"If you apologise you can."

"I did nothing wrong!"

"You did, Rosie. It was uncalled for to react the way you did. If you'd just done as I asked, it would have been over by now."

Rose's expression hardened again. "I'm not apologising," she said stubbornly.

Hermione nodded. "That's your call, Rosie, but just remember that when you are ready to apologise, there'll be people waiting to hear it."

"Well, they can wait as much as they like," Rose said. "Dad should apologise to me too!" she added as Hermione got to her feet.

"And he will," Hermione assured her. She looked at her daughter. "Alright, I'll be in the house."

When she was back in the kitchen, it was Ginny who came up to her. Ron and Molly were nowhere to be seen, and Angelina apparently thought it none of her business to pry.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No, not really," she confessed. "Poor Rosie's confused. She asked me to just tell her now when Ron and I are breaking up so she can be prepared."

"Where'd she get that idea from?" Ginny questioned.

"Well, a few months ago, you and Harry were under that impression, too," Hermione said with a shrug. "Sometimes, I just think it'd be easier if we tell them the truth; tell them why everything's been so hard lately. But, it's Ron's call, and I need to respect that."

"They're your children, Hermione."

"And they're Ron's too, and he only doesn't want to tell them because he loves them. They're twelve and fourteen, Ginny. They don't need to know that their lives are potentially in danger. We went through that, and the last thing I want is for them to go through that, too. They deserve the childhood we never had."

Ginny nodded. "I understand," she said. "And we won't tell anyone until you think they're ready to know. They should hear it from you, when you both think they're ready."

"They already know something's wrong," Hermione continued. "Rose's obviously noticed the tension between us."

"But, ever since you guys went away, you've been really happy. That weekend worked wonders."

"But it's not perfect, Ginny. It hasn't been perfect for ages. I'm not sure it ever will be again."

"You guys are tough," Ginny assured her. "And Rose and Hugo are tough, too. You'll all get through it. You and Ron love each other – that much is obvious – and you've made it work for almost a year now, so don't give up."

"I'm not giving up!" Hermione said, laughing dryly. "Sometimes I'd love to hex him into the next century, but…." She sighed. "But, I love him, I guess." She smiled, and Ginny laughed.

"Yeah, I know."

Their conversation wasn't given a chance to continue due to Molly coming in, levitating a big roast chicken, which landed on the table with a _clunk_.

"Get the kids inside will you, dear?" she said to Ginny.

Ginny nodded, and exited the kitchen.

"Will Rose be joining us?" she then asked Hermione.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. "Sorry."

"Yes, I'm sorry, too. A temper like her father's, that one."

"Unfortunately," Hermione replied, smiling as Ron also re-entered.

It was a common thing for them all to spend a day at the Burrow over the summer. Molly would cook a big lunch for everyone, and they'd all sit around the magically extended table, talking about how school had been, and how everyone was.

It was rare – like today – for everyone to be there. Percy and Audrey had been unable to make it due to work commitments, and Angelina had brought Fred and Roxanne without George because he had to work at the shop.

Charlie was away in Romania still, but Bill and Fleur had managed to make it with just Louis. It wasn't the whole family, but it was close enough.

"Where's Rose?" James wondered as he sat down beside Albus.

"In trouble," Ron growled, helping himself to some of the roast vegetables that were right in front of him.

"She's not eating?" Albus wondered.

Ron didn't say anything, nor did anyone. Some – who hadn't been there during the argument – were looking around, confused. Others just looked very uncomfortable.

"So, James, how's school going?" Molly asked, breaking the tension.

James shrugged. "Er… fine, Grandma," he said.

"Not getting into any trouble, I hope?" Arthur then questioned.

James shook his head. "Nope."

Ginny looked highly amused by that answer, but didn't say anything. Soon, Rose seemed to be forgotten, and everyone began engaging in various conversations around the table.

Hermione threw a glance towards the door every once in a while, but was sorely disappointed every time. Rose was stubborn – she wasn't going to come crawling back and apologising just so she could eat. She knew that, but it didn't stop her from hoping.

Once she'd cleared the dishes away, Molly laid out dessert, and it was well into the evening before any of them even bothered to move.

"It's a shame Rose couldn't join us," Molly said sadly to Hermione as she helped her mother-in-law clear away the dessert plates.

"I know," Hermione said. "I saw Ron pass a plate to James. He wouldn't really let her go hungry. But she needs to learn that she can't have things go her way all the time."

"I saw her wandering around the yard a while ago. Maybe we should bring her inside."

Hermione nodded. "I'll go and get her," she said. "She and Ron will just end up in another fight." She smiled sadly, and Molly seemed to understand.

"It must be hard for them," she said. "Rose and Hugo."

Hermione nodded. "They know something's going on," she said.

"Well, hopefully she'll be caught soon, and you and Ron can rest easy. Ron isn't coping well either. He pretends it doesn't bother him as much as it does."

Hermione nodded again. "I know," she said. "I know."

"Who's up for a game of Exploding Snap?" Bill shouted across the room. "Everyone?"

There were shouts of _mes_ and _yeses_ , and everyone shuffled into the living room, leaving Molly and Hermione standing in the kitchen.

They smiled at each other.

"I'd much prefer to clean the kitchen than play that ghastly game," Molly said humorously.

"You and I both," Hermione agreed. "Though, Ron and I would sometimes play it with the kids when they were younger."

"I think it's a favourite pastime for every wizarding family," Molly said. "It's how they learn."

"I'll go and get Rose," Hermione told her. "Maybe she's feeling really bad now that she'll be willing to help clean up. Then, we might head home. Anymore tension, and I think Ron will tear something apart."

As Hermione expected, Rose was fairly easy to coax inside. She was shivering by an old tree, and when Hermione approached, she looked thoroughly relieved.

"You ready to come inside?" she asked. "Your grandma would really appreciate some help with cleaning up after dinner."

For a moment, Rose contemplated arguing, but the warning look from her mother changed her mind. A little bit of rain was falling now, and no one wanted to be standing out there much longer.

"Okay," she said quietly.

Hermione smiled. "Thank you," she said. "She'll be happy for your help."

They wandered back through the door, and before she even did any cleaning, Rose's arms wrapped tightly around her mother's waist.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Rose, it's not me you need to apologise to," Hermione said, pulling away. She smiled, brushing a strand of hair from Rose's eyes. "But that can wait for tomorrow," she added, kissing the top of her daughter's head/ "Help Grandma clean up, and then we'll go home. That sound okay?"

Rose nodded.

"Come and get us when you're done. We're just in there." Hermione pointed to the living room.

"Thanks for not getting angry, Mum," Rose said.

"Well, maybe you're just lucky I don't have the same temperament as you and your dad," Hermione answered. "Try and keep it under control in the future, okay?"

"Only if he does."

"Come on, clean up, and as soon as it's over, the sooner you can relax."

Once she was sure Rose was obliging to her promise to help her grandmother, Hermione joined the others in the living room, just as the card deck exploded in Hugo's face.

He groaned.

"You need to be quicker, mate," Bill teased.

Hermione laughed. Hugo never had been great at that game. She'd lost count of the number of times the cards had exploded on him.

Sitting out of that game, Ron came to sit beside her. "How's Rosie?" he asked.

"Helping your mother clean," Hermione answered. "She's sorry, Ron. She's just worried. She's not blind to everything, you know. Neither is Hugo. He doesn't say anything, but they know something's wrong."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said. "But as long as she doesn't hate me too much…?"

"Ron, she can stay as angry with you for as long as you can stay with her. Just apologise to each other and it's all sorted."

Ron kissed the side of her head. "You know us too well, Hermione. That's what makes you so wonderful."

Hermione leaned against his shoulder. "There's many things that make me wonderful," she teased. "You just haven't discovered them yet."


	11. August 18, 2021

**August 18, 2021**

"Look at her… just sitting out there… doing nothing."

"She looks so sad, doesn't she?"

"Sad? Hermione, I was thinking more lazy. I should talk to her. Get her to at least go for a walk."

"Ron." Hermione gripped her husband's arm, directing him to look closely at Rose's posture and expression as she lounged against the chair in the backyard. "She's not being lazy, she's sad. She wants to know what's happening to her family, Ron. Things are changing around her and she knows we're not telling her the full story."

Ron sighed loudly, watching his daughter with a pained expression. "I can't."

"She's old enough to know. You know that. They can both handle it. I know you don't want them to suffer the pain and fear that will come with it, but look what it's doing to them – to our daughter, especially. Look at her, Ron. This can't keep going on."

"How do I tell them, Hermione? How do I tell them that I am basically a murderer? They might be able to handle it, but I can't. I can't handle them knowing and thinking of me differently. And they will."

"They'll just love you more, Ron. It's your decision, I know that, but they're _our_ children, and after that incident at the Burrow last month, I think by telling Rose, at least, will put her mind at ease. She can handle it; I know she can."

"She's also rash at judgement and jumping to conclusions… Hermione, she's too much like me for my own liking."

"Which will make her very understanding. Tell her and get it over with. I hate seeing her like this, and I know you do, too. Come on." She opened the door and stepped onto the paved area.

Rose, who'd been in her own world, jumped, and turned her head to face them. "I'm coming, I'm coming," she said. "What do I have to do now? Scrub the bathroom?"

"No, sweetheart, we just want to talk to you. Ideally, it's something we should be talking to you and your brother about, but we know you've been confused for the past few months, and we believe you can handle what we will tell you."

Rose's harsh expression had softened slightly as curiosity got the better of her. She sat up a little straighter and watched them as they drew up chairs opposite her. Her eyes went from Hermione's to Ron's, who could barely look her in the eye.

"What's it about?" she asked curiously. Her eyes then filled with dread. "You promised me you weren't going to break up!" she then yelled. "Mum, you promised me! I asked you, and you said no!" Her eyes had filled with tears as she looked from her mum's calm face, to her dad's bewildered one.

Hermione had never told Ron what Rose had said to her at the Burrow. She thought it was one less thing for him to worry about.

"Where did you get that idea from, Rosie?" Ron questioned. He looked to Hermione, whose face was calm. "What did you tell her?" he demanded.

"Nothing… Ron… nothing," Hermione said, begging him to remain calm. "Just a while ago… Rosie thought…." She shook her head.

"I'm still here, you know," Rose snapped. "Stop talking about me like I'm not. You said I was old enough to know whatever you want to tell me, so stop talking about me like I'm not."

Her expression returned to one of indignation, glaring at both her parents.

"Rosie, I know you've been worried about what's happening," Hermione said. "And I know it's been affecting you, but it has nothing to do with whether or not your dad and I are breaking up. What's happened has just affected us both quite a bit, and I suppose it's affecting the way we talk to each other."

"What is it, then?" Rose questioned. "What happened?"

Hermione looked to Ron, whose mind still seemed to be in the place of their relationship status. She nudged him slightly. "Your turn to talk," she said.

Ron turned to Rose, his mouth opening, and then closing again as he tried to find the words to start the conversation. Hermione saw by the look in his eyes that he really didn't want to have to tell her. For some reason, he thought it would break her. He didn't seem to understand that the reason Rose was behaving the way she was, was _because_ of what had happened. If they told her, she'd understand.

"Not quite a year ago, Rosie, something happened at your dad's work," Hermione began for him.

Rose looked to Ron. "Oh. Like what?"

Ron still sat there, not speaking.

"It was a mission gone wrong, and it resulted in someone being killed by accident. Your dad was on that mission when it happened, and later on we discovered that –"

"MUM!"

Hermione jumped slightly as Hugo's voice boomed through the house, and moments later her son appeared in the doorway, a destroyed box of Every-Flavour Beans in his hand. In the other hand were red blisters.

Their conversation with their daughter momentarily forgotten, both Ron and Hermione hurried over to where Hugo clutched the box and his burned hand.

"What happened, mate?" Ron asked as Hermione conjured some ice on the spot to put over the injury.

"I was testing spells," Hugo confessed. Although he wasn't crying, his face had traces of tear tracks. "And one went wrong, and I… I…." He looked down at his hand.

"You know you're not supposed to use magic outside of school," Hermione said, fussing over her son now. "We need to get you to the hospital before this gets any worse. Look, it's already turning purple."

"It hurts," Hugo said in a dead-panned tone.

"I bet it does," Ron replied. He then turned back to Rose. "Come on, Rosie, we've got to take Hugo to the hospital."

"What about me?" Rose demanded. "You were supposed to tell me something!"

Ron and Hermione shared a look and no words needed to be spoken between them. They'd tried twice to tell her now, and twice they had failed. It was a sign that maybe their children just weren't meant to know yet.

"That has to wait, sweetheart," Hermione said as calmly as she could. She still had Hugo's hand in her own, and finally tears were leaking from his eyes.

"Fine!" Rose huffed. "I'm not going, though. I don't care that Hugo's stupid enough to hurt himself by using magic when he's not allowed to."

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione shook her head warningly.

"That's your decision," she said, "But we're taking Hugo now. We'll be home as soon as we can."

Rose stood there, watching them stubbornly. "Take your time. I finally get the house to myself."

Hermione took Hugo inside after that, leading him to the fireplace, but Ron stood rooted to the spot for a few more moments, not sure whether to feel anger or sadness over what Rose had just said.

Rose didn't look at all sorry. She folded her arms. "I can look after myself!" she snapped, misunderstanding his reason for staying. "I'm not a kid anymore."

"You're fourteen, Rosie. That's still a kid in my book."

Rose fumed. "Take Hugo," she said. "It's what you want. He's more important than me, isn't he?"

Ron didn't know what to say to that, so instead, he turned around and joined Hermione and Hugo by the fireplace.

"She'll be okay," Hermione said. "Let's go."

Hugo's hand was now twice its size, and had gone from purple to a bright orange. Hugo wasn't even trying to fight his tears anymore.

They all stepped into the fireplace together, and – with a handful of Floo Powder – Ron shouted _St. Mungo's_. They were swept from their home fireplace, and landed a few moments later in the Floo area of the hospital.

The line was massive. They would be waiting a while.

OOO

"Well, thankfully no permanent damage has been done." The Healer – man of about thirty – scribbled a few notes onto a clipboard, smiling humorously at Hugo. "Nothing to worry about. The potion you've been given should start taking effect in the next five minutes. After that, the colour will disappear in twenty, and the swelling in an hour."

Hugo looked down at the bandaged hand.

"That's just to stop people staring," the Healer said.

"Thank you," Hermione said.

"No problem. And sorry you had to wait so long to see me. Another hour, and it may as well have been the size of your house."

Hugo's eyes widened slightly at the thought, but Hermione just smiled. "Thank goodness that didn't happen," she said. "Are we okay to go?"

"You're okay to go," the Healer confirmed with a nod. "I just need you to sign this." He passed the clipboard to Hermione who signed under the guardian consent section.

"No more spells, Hugo," she said, handing the quill back.

"Yes. We don't want anything worse to happen, do we?" The Healer winked at Hugo, who blushed.

"He's been told," Ron said. "Many times."

Hugo turned even redder as he hopped off the hospital bed, clutching his bandaged hand tightly.

"Thank you again," Hermione said.

"Any time. Now, to my next patient. The joys of working in the spells-gone-wrong ward. You never catch a break." He led them from the room and then followed them back into the waiting room where there were even more people than before.

Hermione and Ron took Hugo back to the Floo area of the hospital, but just as they approached, Ron stopped. "I think today's in order for an ice-cream," he said. "We'll Floo to Diagon Alley instead."

"Ron… I hardly think rewarding your son with ice-cream after breaking rules is the right way to go," Hermione said disapprovingly. She frowned. "No doubt we'll have the Ministry at our door, if they're not there already."

Ron appeared not to have heard her, but instead responded to his son's wide grin. "Let's go!" he said, and before Hermione had the chance to respond, he was well on his way to Diagon Alley, leaving her no choice but to follow.

The Leaky Cauldron was almost empty when they got there. A few wizards sat in the corners of the pub, and Hannah Longbottom waved to them as they passed by.

Hermione smiled, but didn't stop to talk. For some reason, Ron was in a hurry to get to Diagon Alley, and it wasn't until they'd reached the ice-cream parlour that she worked out why.

He was still furious with Rose and didn't want to return home to see her. He'd never admit it, but her behaviour had really hurt him. He wasn't used to her acting out like this. Two years ago, she had loved him dearly, only going to him for advice. Not only was her age becoming a factor, but it was not being helped with his anger at himself over the mission and the little boy. He'd pulled away, which meant he'd also pulled away from her.

"You can get anything you like, mate," Ron said.

Hugo, elated at being rewarded, ordered the largest ice-cream he could, and Ron obliged. They found a table in the corner of the parlour, and while Hugo ate, they sat in silence.

Hermione shook her head at Ron, who intentionally avoided her eye. He knew she knew. She always knew.

Seeing her son's delight over the ice-cream soon softened her. Due to Rose's recent, uncontrollable behaviour, their son seemed to be left to tend to himself a lot of the time. He was far less trouble and a lot quieter than his sister right now.

Hermione hated to admit it, but sometimes he _did_ disappear into the background, purely because he didn't have the confidence to speak up.

"Take your time, Hu," she said after a while. "We have the rest of the afternoon."

"How's your hand?" Ron asked.

Hugo nodded. "Good," he said through a mouthful of ice-cream.

"No more doing spells around the house," Ron then warned, but it was obvious he wasn't serious. "One day you might end up killing yourself, mate."

"I just said it wrong," Hugo answered. "It won't happen again."

"Damn right, it won't. No more spells, Hu. I know you like it, but I'd rather you in one piece. I might have to take your wand from you."

Hugo frowned, and looked set to argue, but Hermione interrupted before he could. "We've told you a number of times now, Hugo."

Hermione hated herself for thinking it, but spending the day with just Hugo and Ron was quite nice. There was no Rose complaining about everything, and no arguments erupting between father and daughter. It was peaceful, and for a few hours at least, she felt relaxed.

Ron and Hugo were talking more than they had in the past month, and everyone appeared happier than usual.

She wondered what Rose was doing.

 _Probably sitting in her room with a book_ , Hermione thought sadly. If only they'd managed to tell her the truth. Maybe then, she would understand.

It wasn't until both Ron and Hugo were staring right at her that she realised they were speaking to her.

She blinked.

"Hugo wants to know if he can have another ice-cream," Ron said.

Hermione sighed, nodding. "Yes, Hugo." She passed him a few Sickles.

Delighted, Hugo left his seat to go and purchase another one, and when he was gone, Ron turned to her.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "Just thinking about Rosie," she said. "I don't think she's meant to know."

"We'll keep them safe, Hermione. I was thinking – if Rose is under the impression we're breaking up, perhaps it's easier to keep it that way."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Why? Are you sick of me?"

Ron smiled. "Never. I just think it's easier for her to think her family is falling apart than know that one of her parents is a murderer." He lowered his voice. "Intentional or not, Hermione, it's still what happened, and we all need to live with that. I will tell them when the time is right, but that's not right now. We've been through it, Hermione. We know what it's like to have our lives threatened every day. We were much younger than them when it started. I want them to feel happy and safe."

"Rosie doesn't feel safe, Ron. That's the problem. There's a lot more to feeling safe than one's life. She thinks her life will change soon, that we don't love each other anymore. We can tell her it's not true as much as we want, but it won't change what she believes. She might even believe it's her fault."

Ron's expression changed, and for once Hermione couldn't read it. "Even if that were the truth, our kids would still be number one."

Smiling, Hermione reached out to take his hand. "It's not going to happen, Ron. I'm here to support you through this, remember that. We're married, and I love you. Nothing will change that."

Ron returned her smile, and then they both looked at Hugo who was sitting down with an even larger ice-cream.

"After this," Hermione said, "I think we should go home."


	12. September 1, 2021

**September 1, 2021**

"Rosie, is your trunk packed?"

"Mum, you asked me that yesterday before we left home. I haven't needed it since."

"I was just checking, Rose."

"Well, it's packed."

"And you, Hugo?"

"Yes, it's all done, too. And I have all my books, and my wand, and my broomstick."

"Your owl?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I think we're ready to go then."

"Finally."

The four of them where staying at Grimmauld Place for the night so that they could get to King's Cross early. It was somewhat of a tradition for them, yet this morning hadn't gone as well as past years.

Despite her many promises to behave better, Rose's mood hadn't improved at all over the holidays. She was still cold towards them, and isolated herself frequently from their company. She even spoke coldly to Ron, which bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

The hope that she would be politer to Harry and Ginny had quickly dissolved when she had thanked them emotionlessly for dinner, ate in silence, and then disappeared to the room she was sharing with Lily.

Even when they'd asked her to come down for dessert, she had blatantly refused, claiming she was tired and wanted to go to bed.

"She still causing trouble?" Ginny asked Hermione as Rose dragged her trunk through the narrow hall of Grimmauld Place, pushing her younger brother out of the way in the process.

"What does it look like?" Hermione said softly as Rose hurried after her. "Rose, apologise to your brother!" Rose ignored her.

James helped the younger boy to his feet, and walked with him until they were on the footpath, visible to any passer-by.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ginny continued. "Perhaps being at Hogwarts will help her."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, away from her family puts her in a better mood. Good feeling."

"She's just being a typical teenager," Ginny assured her, rubbing her friend's back soothingly. "She'll realise one day how much she needs you, and things will get better. I promise."

Hermione shrugged, following her son and nephew out the door. "It's probably our fault anyway," she said. "It was our fighting that caused it to begin with."

"She loves you, Hermione. She made that clear when she asked you if you and Ron were breaking up. She's just confused, upset, and wanting her own space. Hogwarts will do that for her. When she comes back for Christmas, things will be fine again."

Ginny sounded more hopeful than Hermione felt, but their conversation died after that. Their car was parked just down the street, and Ron and the children were already in the car. She said a goodbye to Ginny, and then got in the passenger's side to what was leading to another screaming match between her husband and children.

Ron hadn't stopped being angry with Rose all holidays, which hadn't gone down well. From two people who had once gotten on very well, their similar personalities were now causing them way too much trouble.

Rose had said something to Hugo, which had caused him to bite back, and Ron to tell Rose off again. Rose had then physically lashed out at her brother, punching him firmly in the side of the arm.

Hugo had – very uncharacteristically – retaliated and hit her back.

Hermione had missed most of this, but that was what she had discovered through all the yelling and screaming and tears.

She wasn't one to lose her temper easily – that was Ron – but sitting in that car, having the three people she loved the most yell obscenities at each other, drew her very close to the edge.

She'd been the mediator all holidays between her husband and daughter, daughter and son, and she couldn't do it much longer.

"Well, I can't wait to go back to Hogwarts!" Rose retorted after Ron had asked how everyone at Hogwarts put up with her foul mood. "I'm away from you!"

Ron opened his mouth to say something back, but Hermione beat him to it. She whipped around, looking her daughter square in the eye. "Well, you know what? I can't wait for you to go back either, Rose. You've been nothing but rude, selfish and cruel since you've come back, and that's not the daughter I raised. We're taking you to King's Cross, and if your mood isn't sorted by Christmas, then you're not coming back. Is that understood?"

A silence fell over them as everyone sat, bewildered, by Hermione's outburst. Ron started the car, looking very confused and uncomfortable with it, and drove out of the street.

Hermione turned back around, shaking her head, while Rose and Hugo didn't say a word for the rest of the short trip.

She had to admit, the silence was very peaceful, but it didn't make up for what had left her mouth before she'd had the chance to stop it. She saw Ron turn his head a few times, probably noticing the few tears that were rolling down her cheeks, but he didn't say anything. At one stage, he lifted his hand off of the steering wheel in what appeared to be an attempt to comfort her, but seemed to decide against it at the last minute.

When they found a park near the station, Hugo was the first to get out, followed by Hugo and then Ron. Hermione was last, her eyes puffy and swollen from her silent tears, and didn't even bother to help with her children's trunks.

Rose marched off towards the station without them, but Hugo hung back, probably not sure what he should do. He kept throwing uncertain glances towards his mother, but didn't speak.

It wasn't until Ron urged him forward that he moved.

"You okay?" Ron finally asked as they weaved their way through the crowd to reach the barrier. He had given Hugo permission to go ahead, provided he stay within eyesight the whole time.

"No," Hermione said. "I'm not sure what came over me."

"I don't think anyone can blame you, Hermione," Ron said. "You've been putting up with that for the last two months. I'm amazed you've lasted this long without saying anything. I'm sorry."

Hermione shook her head. "It's not your fault, Ron. It's no one's fault. Not even Rosie's."

"Everything you said was true. The same probably could have been said about me."

Nearing the barrier and where Hugo waited, Hermione lowered her voice, running her hand over her stressed face. "I just can't handle it," she said. "You and Rosie fighting, me and you fighting, Hugo being caught in the middle of it all, not really sure what to do. I'm just sick of it all. I can't handle it, Ron. This is one thing I can't cope with."

They stopped beside Hugo, and Ron put an arm across Hermione's shoulder. "You go, mate," he said. "We'll be right behind you."

Hugo hesitated, glancing between the barrier and his parents. Rose was long gone, probably already on the train, but Hugo had never walked through that barrier alone before, and his eyes showed that he was scared.

"You can do it, Hu," Hermione encouraged weakly. "Just wait for us on the other side."

"You're coming, right?" Hugo wanted to know.

Those words broke Hermione's heart. What had happened for her children to lose faith in them?

"We're definitely coming , sweetheart. We'll be a few seconds. Promise." She gave a weak smile.

"Okay."

Looking nervously towards the barrier, he ran and then disappeared to the other side. Ron squeezed Hermione's shoulder tighter.

"You can cope with anything, Hermione," he assured her. "Merlin, I admire your strength and wish I had half of it. You had every right to snap at Rose like that."

"I practically told her I didn't want her to come home… I do, Ron. I want her here with us."

"She knows that."

"No, she doesn't, and that's the problem. I feel awful. What kind of person does that make me to tell my own daughter not to come home for Christmas?"

"You didn't say that; you told her she was to rethink her attitude or not bother coming home. You were doing what I didn't have the guts to say to her. Now, come on, Hugo'll be worrying."

Hermione wiped away the tears she had no control over, and ran through the barrier with Ron. They almost crashed into their son he was standing that close.

"You said you'd only be a few seconds," he accused, allowing Ron to take his trolley from him.

"Sorry, mate," Ron said as they moved through the crowd, trying to get to the Hogwarts Express.

They found Harry and Ginny with their children somewhere in the middle, and Ginny looked very worried. "I just saw Rosie in tears!" she exclaimed. "Is she okay?" She then noticed Hermione's red eyes, and said, "What happened on the drive here?"

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "I'll tell you later." There were too many gossips on the station. If someone got whiff of even the slightest thing, it'd be in the paper the next morning.

They waited while Ron helped Hugo get his trunk and owl onto the train, and they returned with a sulking Rose trailing behind them.

"Look who we found," Ron said.

Rose said nothing.

Hermione, who normally had an answer for everything, had nothing to say to her daughter. She opened and closed her mouth five times before deciding it was best not to say anything at all. She didn't trust herself right now.

"Can we go now?" Hugo asked after a few moments.

"Yeah, before someone steals our compartment," James added, hurrying away, only to be called back by Harry to say goodbye.

"Bye, darling," Hermione said, giving Hugo a warm hug. "Don't forget to write to us okay?"

"Every week," Hugo promised.

Hermione kissed his cheek – which he wiped away in disgust – and followed his cousins onto the train. Rose tried to go with them, but Ron forced her to stay.

"I'm going to be late," she said moodily. "I thought you wanted me to go, so you wouldn't want me to miss the train, would you?" She glared at Hermione.

"Rose… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm sorry."

Rose continued to glare. "Well, I'm not. And I won't be coming back for Christmas. I'd rather spend it with my friends."

Hermione didn't say anything. She simply nodded. "Have a good time, sweetheart. I love you."

A much younger, less afraid Rose would have told her she loved her too, but this time, she simply turned on her heel without a word to anyone and boarded the train.

Ron drew Hermione close to him, comforting her as tears rolled down her cheeks for the third time in the last hour. Hopefully, anyone who noticed, would just think she was crying due to her children leaving for another few months.

She wouldn't bother to correct them. No one needed to know that she felt she was no longer in control of what happened in her life.

She didn't want to blame what had happened with Ron, but when it came down to it, that was when everything had started.

That was when her life had started falling apart, and she had no idea what she could do to put it back together.

OOO

"I know it's none of our business, really, and you don't have to tell us, but… is everything okay?" It had taken Ginny less than a minute after arriving back at Grimmauld Place to ask about what had happened at the station, even though she tried to be diplomatic about it.

Ron seemed resistant to share with his sister, but Hermione needed to tell someone. "Right after we got in the car, a big fight erupted between Rose and Ron and Hugo. Rose is the centre of it all lately, and… and I told her unless she sorted out her attitude, she wasn't coming home for Christmas."

Although she tried to cover it fairly quickly, Hermione didn't miss the slight shock across Ginny's face. It was so out of character for Hermione to do something like that – even Ginny seemed to realise it. But her expression soon softened, and she smiled sympathetically.

"I'm sure you had a perfectly good reason," she said. "We've all been a victim of her temper at one stage or another."

Hermione shook her head. "Which I'm very sorry about."

Ginny waved her away. "Don't be. Trust me, I'm used to that kind of temper. It runs in the family." She looked pointedly to Ron, who glared at her.

"Still, we didn't raise her to behave like that, and it's embarrassing more than anything. And I know it's our fault… well, partly our fault, anyway," she added hastily, before Ginny could tell her otherwise. She looked around the narrow hall. Harry had somehow managed to sneak off without being seen, but Ginny seemed more than happy to continue the conversation. "I think I might need to lie down," she said. "Sorry."

Ginny shook her head. "Go," she said, "It's fine."

"Ron will help you with dinner."

Ginny nodded, and Hermione moved to the stairs, walking up slowly with Ron by her side. Once they reached their room, she collapsed onto the bed, her head in her hands and this time, really did cry.

Ron didn't say anything to begin with. He just sat beside her and held her. Once upon a time ago, he wouldn't have done that. He wouldn't have understood that that was all she needed. But he'd learnt now, and he knew not to say anything.

"I don't even know why… why I'm like this," she finally managed to say into his chest.

"Because you love her, and you hate that she's not the old Rosie."

"I just want her to be happy… Hugo to be happy… us to be happy."

"I'll stop blaming myself," Ron said, and Hermione pulled away to look at him.

"What?"

"I know it wasn't really my fault, what happened, so I'll stop thinking that. It was an accident."

Hermione shook her head, blinking away tears. "Oh, Ron, that's not the reason."

"It's part of it, though. It's what started it, and if it makes you feel just a little bit better, I won't blame myself anymore. I want things to go back to the way they were, too, but I don't think either of us has been trying really hard to make that happen. It's just easier to blame something, or someone. But, from now on, we'll work on it, okay? We'll make sure we go back to how we were."

Hermione smiled. "That sounds like a good idea," she said. "I miss… I miss moments like these."

"I miss everything about us, Hermione. It made me so mad seeing you so affected by what had happened; I just blamed myself even more."

"It's not your fault."

"I know… I know that. But the guilt will never go away."

Hermione nodded. "I understand that," she said. "I just want you to stop blaming yourself. We don't have to tell the kids if you don't want to, but please just realise that you don't deserve to be punished for what happened. That boy was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you were trying your hardest to protect the wider community from being killed. Forgive yourself, Ron."

"I will."

Hermione leaned in and kissed him. "From this day forward, we'll be happy," she said. "Like we were a year ago."

Ron nodded, kissing her back. "Starting right now."

Hermione laughed.

"I'll go and help Ginny and Harry with dinner, and then I'll come back and check on you, okay? Sleep, rest, do whatever."

"Thanks, Ron."

"No, thank _you_ for finally showing that even you have to draw the line somewhere. Rosie will come home. She's a good kid, and she knows what she's doing is wrong. She won't want to upset you anymore than she already has."

"And _I_ don't want to upset _her_ anymore than I already have," Hermione answered.

"It was a wake-up call for her. She's probably over it already."

They both knew that that wasn't the case. Rose could hold grudges like nobody else, but neither of them said anything. They really meant their pact – they were going to be happy from now on. No more fighting, no more yelling. Anything they may have said or done in the past was going to be forgotten.

"Okay, I should go before Ginny yells at me. Don't stress yourself out again, it's not nice to watch."

Hermione smiled, waiting for Ron to leave the room. When he was, she lied down on the bed, suddenly feeling more exhausted than she realised. She hoped Rose was okay. She hadn't meant to yell, and she regretted doing so now.

She just hoped that Rose wouldn't react badly to the situation, because when Rose did act badly, things were never good.

She was too much like Ron.

* * *

 _ **I hope you're enjoying this so far. Reviews would be very much appreciated!  
**_


	13. October 17, 2021

**October 17, 2021**

"Hey."

Ron looked up from his desk, smiling as Hermione approached him. She looked stressed – as she usually did at work. She was the head of her section of her department, and from what Ron knew, she suffered because of it. In a mood of disarray once, she'd called them the department of idiots.

She'd regretted it almost instantly, of course.

"You don't look so good," Ron replied as a way of greeting.

Hermione simply shook her head. "Nothing is getting done as usual," was all the said. She stole the unoccupied chair from Harry's desk and came to sit opposite her husband. For a moment, she just watched him, and Ron knew that to mean she wanted to tell him something but wasn't sure how.

"Whatever bad news you have, I can take it," he said.

She bit her lip.

"I can read you as easily as you can read me," he reminded her. "What's up?"

Hermione still looked hesitant to say something, and Ron waited for her to find the words she needed. He'd learnt long ago there was no point in hurrying her in situations like these. "Is Harry around?" she managed to ask after a while.

Ron shook his head. "On an errand in Diagon Alley."

"Good," and she extracted a thick piece of parchment from inside her robes, the handwriting all too familiar to Ron by now.

"We haven't gotten anything from her in months," Ron said, snatching the parchment from her hands before she'd had the chance to say anything.

Hermione nodded. "Read it," she instructed.

Ron did just that, and by the time he'd gotten through the short note, he was fuming. Red had come to his face, his ears and his neck. "That's it!" he exclaimed, getting to his feet – startling a few of the newer Aurors from their work. "Threatening me is one thing, but to threaten the lives of Rose and Hugo… I won't accept it."

"Ron, calm down for just a moment," Hermione pleaded. She took the letter back from him, scanning over the sentences.

 _You killed my son. Now I kill yours._

"She hasn't acted on any of these threats, and they're at Hogwarts. They're safe."

"For now. That's it, I'm writing to the pair of them and telling them they're not coming home for Christmas."

"Ron, in that case you'd have to tell them. Rose is still angry with us for what happened last month. She'll now think you've turned against her, too."

"I'd rather that then to see her dead," Ron said. "I'm taking this to Kingsley. She's gone too far now. I won't let her put my children's lives in danger."

" _Our_ children, Ron." But she didn't stop him from taking the note back and marching to the door of his office.

"You coming with me?" he asked.

For a moment Hermione considered saying no, but decided against it. No, these were her children, too, and she didn't like their lives being threatened any more than Ron did.

Begonia Webb had gone one step too far. Something had to be done.

As if as an afterthought, Ron turned to one of the other Aurors. "Er… can you manage it for a few minutes?" he asked. "I just need to see Kingsley."

The Auror nodded – not looking at all confident in his own ability to run the office for any amount of time – and Ron left, Hermione following.

"Don't get too worked up," Hermione said as she breathlessly tried to catch up to her husband's fast steps. "We have to deal with this… delicately."

"She can threaten me as much as she likes, but I will not accept her doing it to the kids," Ron said, marching through to corridor, completely unaware of anyone else.

"Yes, but, Ron…."

"No! No! Hermione, I won't put them in danger. If coming forward and telling the media what happened will help her to be found, then for the love of Merlin, I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure she doesn't get to them. Please, just let me deal with this."

Hermione had to force herself not to say anything else. She knew Ron was upset – she was too – but she also knew how badly he reacted when he was upset. Barging into Kingsley's office, demanding something be done was not going to do anything.

It would probably be better if she did the talking. But that wasn't going to happen. Ron was going to deal with it himself.

"Ron… Hermione… what can I do for you?" Kingsley seemed genuinely surprised to see the both of them in his office, but also seemed to understand it was something urgent due to neither of them knocking and being invited to come in.

Without saying a word, Ron put the letter on Kingsley's desk, waiting for him to read it. He did just that, and when he'd finished, he sat it back down, cool, calm eyes looking between them.

"I won't have them threatened," Ron said.

"Which is understandable," Kingsley said with a nod.

"What can be done?"

For what felt like a very long moment, there was complete silence. Kingsley seemed to be thinking, and for once, Ron was waiting patiently for an answer. He trusted Kingsley – he knew he'd do everything he could to help them.

After a while, he said, "I have an idea to prove it was her who sent this."

Ron and Hermione waited silently for him to continue.

"Hermione, you may be more familiar with the Muggle ways of investigations such as these, but I've been doing some research myself, and there's a method the Muggles use which I don't believe Ms. Webb would have considered."

Ron stared at the Minister blankly, but a small hint of realisation dawned in Hermione's eyes. "You mean fingerprints, don't you?" she asked.

Kingsley nodded.

"And, what use would that be?" Ron wanted to know.

"Ron, no single person in the world has the same fingerprints," Hermione explained. "Muggles use it all the time to try and find the culprit in any investigation. People can leave fingerprint marks on almost anything they touch, and it's the best way to find people, though anyone in the Muggle world who doesn't want to be caught won't leave prints."

"So, what's the point then?" Ron demanded.

"It's not something we use in the wizarding world," Kingsley continued. "If, which I believe to be true, it was Begonia Webb, she wouldn't have taken the care to erase any prints on the parchment. It most likely wouldn't have crossed her mind to do so. I've been researching, and I think there's a way to discover these prints. It may take one or two days, but leave it to me."

"In the meantime, we'll just wait for her to hurt them, then, shall we?" Ron said angrily.

"They're perfectly safe at Hogwarts," Kingsley said. "Now, I understand why you're both worried. Any parent would be to receive a note like that. But have faith that nothing will happen to them while they're at Hogwarts. It's one of the safest places in the world. She won't be able to get to them there. But… if it helps, I'll send an owl to the headmaster requesting he keep a close watch on them."

Hermione nodded. "Thanks, Kingsley," she said.

"So, what does this fingerprint thing do?" Ron then questioned. "What happens?"

"Detecting the fingerprints is the easy part," Kingsley said. "It's proving they belong to her which will be difficult. It's virtually unheard of to keep such records in the wizarding world. There'll be no record, so we'll have to find her still, but when we do, at least we'll have proof of what she has done."

Ron didn't seem at all convinced, but didn't say anything. He just didn't understand. Hermione would explain it better to him when they got home.

"Thank you," she said again. She moved to the door and waited for Ron to join her. It appeared he wanted to say something more to the Minister, but didn't know what or how. When they left the office, neither spoke for a good minute. It was all just very confusing.

Eventually, Hermione said, "They'll be safe. They'll be more than safe there. Kingsley knows what he's doing."

"I know that, but it doesn't stop me from worrying," Ron answered. "I didn't want this to happen."

"Neither did I, but at the same time, we need to realise that they're both more than capable of looking after themselves, too. We'd like to protect them, but at the end of the day, they're able to look after themselves."

"This fingerprint thing seems pointless. It won't find her."

"No, but it'll help with putting her in Azkaban when you do find her. That's the point."

"I just want her found."

"She will be. I promise. I've got two trainees planning an argument for her case as an 'assignment'. I made it out to be all hypothetical, but once she's found we'll have something to work on."

"And Malfoy?"

"What about him?"

"He got anything to do with it? I mean, as much as I don't like the bloke, he's bloody good at what he does."

Hermione was silent for a moment, and then, "No, I don't see the need to involve him."

"Good."

They'd made it back to Ron's office just as Harry was returning from his errand in Diagon Alley.

"Hey," he greeted them cheerfully. "You both been at lunch?"

Ron shook his head. "No, mate. Other business… personal."

Harry understood straight away, and moved nearer so they could talk in private. "What happened?"

"Just another note," Hermione told him. "But this one was threatening the kids, so we took it to Kingsley."

"And he's going to… fingerprint test it, or something. Some Muggle method apparently," Ron added.

Harry nodded. "Never thought of that one before," he said. "Except, I'm pretty sure you need her fingerprints on record for it to work… which we don't have."

"It's only to use as evidence when we _do_ finally catch her," Hermione explained. "It's more of a reason to hold her."

"That makes sense… it's a good idea, actually. Probably should have thought of it earlier."

"Threatening me is one thing, but the kids… I won't let her do it. I'd rather she kill me before she gets to them."

"Ron…."

"It's all hypothetical. I'm sure we'd all say the same thing when our kids' lives were threatened. I'd prefer to see her in Azkaban."

"Mhm," Harry agreed. "As would I." He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. "I believe it's your lunch break now, anyway. Go."

"I'll take mine, too," Hermione said. "I'll explain the fingerprint thing to you. Just give me a few moments to let Malfoy know."

Hermione left the office, and Ron made for the door again, heading to the cafeteria. When Hermione met him ten minutes later, she dived straight into an explanation about fingerprinting and the Muggle legal system.

Ron thought it was too complicated for it to work, but she seemed convinced that it could, so he let it slide.

Frankly, he didn't care how she was caught, just as long as she was.

He hadn't wanted a big fuss to be made when it had just been him, but now that Rose and Hugo had been brought into it, he wasn't going to sit back and wait for her to act (if she did at all).

They were his children, and there was nothing in the whole world that would stop him from doing everything he could to keep them safe.

Even if that meant leaving them at Hogwarts over Christmas… he'd rather they be alive and hate him than them scared and… dead.

As Hermione moved on to other, happier topics, Ron's mind trailed to Begonia Webb's face and how devastated she'd been at her son's death.

If only he'd listened to Hermione that day. If only he'd stayed at home with her, rather than going.

If he had, none of this would be happening.


	14. November 15, 2021

**WARNING: This chapter contains implies mature themes**

* * *

 **November 15, 2021**

"Do you think Kingsley does this on purpose… giving us more days off together on purpose?" Ron sunk back into the couch, his hands behind his head, his feet on the coffee table (something Hermione didn't approve of). "Not even an ounce of paperwork to do today. Got it all done yesterday."

"The fact that I'm the one to schedule my area's timetables, and Kingsley does yours… I asked him when your next day off was so I could give myself that day off, too."

Ron opened one eye, grinning at Hermione. "I thought you hated it when we had the same day off. I annoyed you, I thought. Got in your way."

"What gave you that impression?" Hermione asked, trying to sound as casual as she could.

"You told me… multiple times."

"I've never said that," Hermione said defensively. "Just that… sometimes it was better when I was here alone to get everything done. Especially with the kids here as well. But when it's just us…." She sidled up next to him on the couch.

"It's sad to think that at points in our lives we'd rather be away from each other. And then other times, I couldn't bear the thought of you leaving this couch. I wish it was like that all the time."

"Being away from each other?"

"No, being here with you right now. No work, no kids… what to do when we're alone… hmm…."

Hermione was shaking her head at his one-track mind, but at the same time, couldn't control the smile that came to her lips. "I wonder," she said with humour, kissing his cheek and resting her head against his shoulder.

"Why don't we just… go back up to bed and stay there for a few more hours? We don't get to sleep in all that often… not even when we could have today."

"What makes you think I _want_ to?"

Ron had no answer for that, but mumbled something that sounded very much like _never wanting to_.

Hermione laughed, putting both arms around his neck. "Oh, Ron, you're always so offended," she teased. "You have been ever since we've been together. Don't take it personally. Besides, it was just a question. I said _what makes you_ think _I want to_? I never said no."

At that, Ron's spirit lifted dramatically, and he was sitting a little straighter, watching his wife with anticipation. "So… now?"

"Hmmm, I don't know. There are _so many_ things we could do to kill a few hours. What exactly did you have in mind?"

Ron scowled. "Stop teasing," he accused.

Hermione laughed, drawing his lips to hers. "But it's so much fun," she told him. "Because you always react." She kissed him again and then got up from the couch, pulling him with her. "But, I suppose I really do have nothing else to do, so why not?"

"You make it sound like it's a chore," Ron said, but his mood had somewhat changed now. His mouth pressed eagerly against hers, his hands on her back – hers around his neck. "Should we… bedroom?" he said through her mouth.

Hermione shook her head, falling back onto the couch in a split-minute decision. "No… kids," she breathed, and she pulled him back down with her.

His hands cupped her face, putting intermittent kisses onto her mouth, to her cheek, to her neck. At times, he would pull away, attempting to speak, making sure she was okay where they were, but she refused to let him.

"Just go with it," she sighed after the third time he tried.

His hands moved to under her shirt, and she pressed herself into him, moaning into his mouth as his cool, gentle hands caressed her bare skin underneath.

Her lips trembled against his, and she fell into his lap, wanting to be as close as possible. "Keep doing that," she said breathlessly. "… it feels nice."

If at all possible, Ron's fingers became even gentler – lighter – against her, and he began drawing patterns on her back.

She moaned again, latching her fingers into his hair as he pressed kisses down her neck. His hands moved up her back, wanting to remove her shirt – and he would have, too – had their not been a gentle cough coming from the fireplace.

Hermione sprang from her husband's lap, a deep shade of red, and Ron swore.

"Bloody hell, Har – oh." He immediately sat back down, feeling just as embarrassed as Hermione as they stared into the very amused – not at all embarrassed – expression of the Hogwarts headmaster.

"Er… sorry to interrupt," he said, looking between them. Both Weasleys blushed furiously, the knowledge that their children's headmaster had just caught them in an act of intimacy clear in their minds, responding with weak hellos.

In that moment, Ron was very grateful for his choice of clothing, otherwise, things might have been even more humiliating.

"Wh-what… is… there something you need to speak to us about?" Hermione said, smoothing over her own clothes as if that would make a difference. Her heart still pounded against her chest, and her only thought was if Professor Gimp had appeared a few moments later, he might have seen a lot more than he bargained for.

"I was just wondering if the two of you could come to Hogwarts for a little while. There's something we need to discuss. I've opened up the Floo to my office… it's quite important, however, not urgent if you have… other plans."

"No, no, we weren't doing anything… overly important," Hermione answered. She looked to Ron for a moment, and then turned back to the headmaster. "Um… but we might need half an hour or so," she then added, biting her lip to force down a smile.

The headmaster, seeming to understand, nodded, and his head disappeared from the fireplace. The moment he was gone, Ron got his feet. "Half an hour? Hermione, she could have gotten to them by then! We should go now!"

"She…? Ron, I don't think anything's happened to them," Hermione said. "He said it wasn't urgent. Anyway, neither of us is in any state to be talking to our children's teacher right now. That was completely humiliating."

"You can talk," Ron mumbled, turning away from her. "Who's bright idea was it to stay there in the first place?"

"And who's been saying for _years_ that the bedroom is getting boring?" Hermione retorted, folding her arms over her chest. "That is exactly why I –"

"Yeah, yeah," Ron said, relenting. "It won't happen again. Not ever. I think I would have preferred Harry to have been there than… than _him_!"

Hermione smirked. "Half an hour, Ron. Then I think we'll have to go and see him, see what he wants… and explain that…."

"Nope, I'm not explaining anything!" Ron said stubbornly. "He's intruding in our house. What we do – and _where_ \- is none of his business!"

"It is when he sees."

Ron glared at her. "Never again," he said, and he marched off, leaving Hermione standing in the middle of the living room, shaking her head.

She was not looking forward to visiting the headmaster. She would never be able to look him in the eye again.

OOO

"Ah, Mr and Mrs Weasley; thanks for joining me." Professor Gimp gave them both a knowing smile as he Summoned two chairs for them opposite his desk.

Refusing to meet his eye, Ron and Hermione sat down in a chair and waited.

"Is there something you wish to tell us?" Hermione eventually asked when it was clear the headmaster wasn't going to say anything.

"Yes… yes there is, in fact. But, no, nothing to worry about regarding your children's safety, if that's what you're worried about. As you are aware, the Minister has told me about the situation, and they are very much protected here. Security on their being has also increased since the lack of fingerprints on the note Minister Shacklebolt tested some weeks ago."

"Okay, then, so why are we here?" Ron wanted to know – his tone harsher than he intended due to his embarrassment over what had happened not so long ago.

The headmaster nodded. "While your children's safety is nothing to be concerned about, your daughter's academic achievements are…" He shuffled a few pieces of parchment on his desk.

"Rosie?" Hermione questioned, surprised. Rose was a very intelligent girl – she would never have imagined they'd be called to the school regarding _Rose's_ schooling, academic wise.

"As I'm sure you're aware, Rose's marks for the past three years have been near perfect in every subject. She's a hard-working young lady, studious, and naturally gifted. She has been in the _Prophet_ because of it. However, this year, her teachers have been reporting a decrease in her results. From an O student these past years, she's slipped to an Exceeds Expectations, and in some cases, even an Acceptable.

"Now, I'm aware that due to unfortunate circumstances, your lives have been quite hectic the past year or so. Children can be affected by that in more ways than you know – especially someone of Rose's age. Teachers have been reporting a decrease in her enthusiasm in classes, mood swings… solitude…."

"Rosie likes her own company," Ron said defensively. "She always has."

The headmaster nodded. "Yes, of course, but she appears to be more… withdrawn as of late, which under normal circumstances, is quite unusual for Rose."

Hermione nodded, understanding. Rose liked to be the centre of attention. She hated it when someone else took her glory from her.

"I don't mean to pry, of course, but her teachers are just very concerned for her wellbeing at the moment, and without explaining to them the full story, it's hard to determine what might be causing this."

Hermione turned her head slightly, catching Ron's eye. Rose hadn't sent a single letter since she'd been back. From someone who normally wouldn't shut up, she'd been awfully quiet with them lately.

They just hadn't realised it had extended to being at school, too.

"Rosie's just been having a hard time dealing with things lately," Hermione eventually said, returning her attention to the headmaster. "We haven't told her what's happened, but she knows something has and she's afraid."

"Understandable, of course."

"Our..." She looked to Ron, silently asking if it was okay to reveal personal information. He nodded. "Our _lives_ have been quite unstable for the majority of this year. A lot of stress, a lot of arguing, a lot of… things, really. It's been hard on all of us, and I think Rosie's been affected by it quite a bit. In fact, I know she has. And, our parting goodbye at King's Cross in September wasn't exactly on good terms."

The headmaster nodded. "And, you think this may be causing her lack in enthusiasm in school?"

Hermione and Ron both nodded. "Yes," they said.

"I regret it now, but in a moment of frustration with her, I told her to not bother returning home if she was going to continue behaving the way she was. I think she took it seriously."

"Ah, now that would explain many things."

Hermione looked at Professor Gimp curiously.

"Professor Longbottom has said he's overheard a few conversations between Rose and some of her friends. He didn't understand, of course, but said she's been saying things along the lines of: _Mum and Dad don't want me back_ , and, _I'm a terrible daughter_ , and, _My parents don't love me anymore_."

Hermione closed her eyes, forcing down the feeling of tears brimming her eyes.

"She's been saying that?" Ron asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

The headmaster nodded. "As Professor Longbottom has reported… I could bring him in to confirm if you'd like."

Hermione shook her head. "No… it unfortunately makes sense," she said. "I believe you."

"Well, my suggestion would be bringing Rose here, sitting all three of you down and setting things straight, but oddly enough, I believe there's more to it than just that, that's really none of my business."

"We'd still like to see her, though," Ron said. "Set things straight."

Hermione nodded, agreeing. She just wanted to see her little girl again to tell her everything was okay. She wanted to remind her how important she was to them, and they did want her back and they did love her.

Gimp waved his wand and a piece of parchment shot to his hand. He studied it for a few moments, and then said, "She's in class as we speak, but I can send for her in fifteen minutes when her class ends. I'll also notify Professor Zabini that she'll be late to Potions."

"As long as she doesn't get a detention for it from him," Ron said indignantly.

"Believe it or not, Professor Zabini is quite fond of Rose. All the teachers are. She's a bright young witch on most occasions with a lot of promise."

They waited in the headmaster's office for some time. Professor Gimp tried to make idle conversation, asking them how their day had been going (despite knowing full well how it was going to go had he not interrupted).

"Should we meet somewhere more comfortable than my office?" he then asked, getting to his feet. "I've requested Rose come to an empty classroom on the second floor. Being called to my office is not a good thing for most students."

Ron and Hermione nodded, realising they had no choice, and followed him to an old classroom. They'd barely got seated when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Professor Gimp replied cheerfully. The door opened, and there appeared Rose. At first she looked terrified to be there, but then she saw Ron and Hermione sitting with the headmaster, and frowned.

"Come in, Rose," the headmaster said.

Timidly, Rose approached the front of the classroom, eyeing off her parents with scepticism as she did so.

"What are you doing here?" she asked once she was seated – closer to the headmaster than to them, Hermione couldn't help but note.

"We… we just came to see you," Hermione said, smiling.

"Where's Hugo, then?"

"We just want to see you for now," Hermione replied. "We should talk."

"About what?"

"Whatever you want." Hermione glanced towards Professor Gimp.

"Yes… I'll just be outside. Call if you need me." He got to his feet and wandered to the door.

"I don't understand why you're here," Rose said the moment he was gone. "Am I in trouble? I didn't do anything…."

"No, sweetheart, you're not in trouble," Hermione said. "We just… we're worried about you, that's all."

"Why?"

"Why? Rosie, you're our daughter, and we love you. The headmaster said you've been struggling in your classes this year."

"It's a lot harder than the other years."

"But… is everything okay? Friends, your dormitory… it's all good?"

Rose nodded, appearing very confused.

"And… you know that we really do want you back for Christmas, don't you? It wouldn't be the same without you. And…."

"We do love you, Rosie," Ron interrupted.

For a moment, Rose didn't say anything. Her head turned between them, watching both her parents. "Okay."

"We didn't want you to leave the way that you did. And… and I'm sorry that I yelled at you."

Rose studied her hands. "I deserved it," she mumbled.

"Not for me to speak to you like that," Hermione said. "I don't want you thinking that I don't want you home. Because I do. Very much."

Rose nodded. "Okay. I'll come home," she said.

Hermione and Ron smiled.

"That's great, Rosie."

"Can I go now? I have to go to class. And I actually like Potions." Rose got to her feet, and so did Ron and Hermione.

"Okay, well, it was good seeing you again, darling. We can't wait for you to come home."  
Hermione reached out her arms for her daughter, and surprisingly, Rose obliged. She buried herself into her mother, returning the hug tightly. "We love you, Rosie."

Rose pulled away, smiling weakly, and then did the same to Ron, also holding onto him for quite some time.

"Okay, I have to go," she said.

"By, sweetheart."

"See you, Rosie."

Rose smiled again, looking slightly brighter than she had ten minutes ago, and left the room with a slight bounce in her step. When she was gone, the headmaster returned.

"Should the other professors be expecting a drastic improvement in her schooling?" he asked.

"She needs time," Hermione said, "But she's strong. She'll survive. She wasn't put into Gryffindor for nothing."

The headmaster nodded.

"Well, we should be going," Ron said after a moment's silence. "Get back to our only day off, I suppose."

Professor Gimp nodded. "I'll show you to the office."

Once they returned, Ron and Hermione stepped into the fireplace. "Thank you, Professor," Hermione said.

"The students are my main priority."

"And… er… about earlier…" Ron began uncomfortably.

"I'll remember to notify you next time I need to contact you urgently," the headmaster said. "My apologies."

Satisfied that he was sincere, Hermione and Ron returned to their home.

"That went well," she said. "I just want her to know how loved she is."

"She'll come to know that eventually," Ron said, kissing her temple. "Sometimes, people just need reminding."

Hermione smiled up at him. "Mm, she takes after you," she agreed. "A lot."

Ron shrugged. "Not my fault," he said. "Now… do you want to pick up from where we were so rudely interrupted before?"

Hermione grinned. "Where isn't there a fireplace?" she asked.

"Room… kitchen… car…."

"Ron!"

"What?"

Hermione laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I love you," she said. "But, I actually do have some things to do now…."

"Of course."

"I promise tonight we'll make up for it, okay? Or… if you help me with the housework, maybe even this afternoon."

Ron nodded. "Alright," he sighed. "But only because I love you, okay?"

Hermione smiled. "Yes, the only reason," she said. "Of course."

Ron, looking smug, nodded. "So, where do you want to start?"

* * *

 _ **I really have no excuse for being so delayed in posting these chapters. I've finished writing all of them. No excuse at all apart from I'm lazy. But anyway, here's the next chapter :) I hope you enjoy!**_


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